


Umino Iruka and the Covert Cabinetry

by Leicontis



Series: Umino Iruka and the Will of Fire [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Naruto
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Minor Character Death, responsible adults
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:55:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 47,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22618240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leicontis/pseuds/Leicontis
Summary: The war with Voldemort is heating up, our heroes are scrambling to find and eliminate his Horcruxes, and the fate of Magical Britain hangs in the balance as the final confrontation looms.
Series: Umino Iruka and the Will of Fire [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1076316
Comments: 38
Kudos: 98





	1. Suspicious

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.

After Albus had approved the statement, it was sent off to the Prophet. It did seem to ease people's fears slightly (though shoppers in Diagon Alley were still visibly skittish) and bond sales surged as donations poured in to Saint Mungo's. Madam Bones complained somewhat about her people being run ragged following up the flood of tips, most of which were useless, but she acknowledged that too many tips wasn't entirely a bad problem to have; several _had_ panned out, leading to the arrests of a number of Riddle's unmarked followers.

With fresh arrests, however, came a new problem: What were they going to do with them? Azkaban had proven no match for Voldemort, and there weren't a lot of other places to _put_ prisoners. The DMLE only had a handful of holding cells, most of which weren't even all that secure. A few people had proposed summary execution, but that idea had been quickly and soundly rejected. It might gain more traction if things got more desperate, but for now almost nobody wanted to become that kind of society. The hardliners _had_ managed to push through a bill mandating the death penalty for anyone convicted in open court and sentenced to a life term that was caught in Voldemort's service. Sirius and his allies had worked hard to make sure there were as many safeguards as possible to make sure that those executed were properly guilty, and he'd ruthlessly harped on his own wrongful imprisonment when necessary to get his point across.

In happier news, the Weasley twins had started up a joke shop in Diagon Alley, named "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes" and funded by their silent partner Sirius Black. The Marauder considered it his duty to promote mischief and merrymaking, especially in such dark times, and also recognized that in the years to come he'd probably end up reaping a tidy profit from his stake in the company. Given that he was partly bankrolling the war effort on their side, it didn't hurt to have some assurance of long-term financial solvency. He and Remus also consulted with Fred and George at times, lending their own knowledge and experience; the four could often be found chatting conspiratorially behind privacy charms in the evenings.

The Order also had a number of new recruits, including Beauxbatons Champion Fleur Delacour or all people. She was apparently interning at Gringotts in Diagon Alley, and wanted to do her part in the fight against people that considered her nothing more than a subhuman beast. Her budding romance with her colleague Bill Weasley _may_ have also been a factor.

There was a new face at Hogwarts, too, or rather an old one: Horace Slughorn would be teaching Potions to at least the first four or five years' worth of students. Apparently this latest wave of violence had finally been enough to push him into accepting Albus's offer of sanctuary in the castle in exchange for the unaltered version of his memory. They now knew that Tom Riddle had intended to make six Horcruxes, believing that a seven-part soul would provide the best results.

**Λ**  
**-――――===ͽ < O > ͼ===――――-**  
**V**

With all five members of S.E.N. living at Headquarters and not really able to go out freely, Iruka spent a lot of time working them as hard as was practical, doing everything he could to make them more ready for what they all knew was an inevitable confrontation. Many of their parents or guardians had never seen the training before, and Molly Weasley in particular was not exactly happy about her nearly-fifteen-year-old daughter undergoing rigorous combat training. She grew even less happy when Ginny's brothers joined in as they were able, alongside virtually everybody else in the house and any other Order members that came by. After all, they were mostly in the same boat as the children, and in many cases needed something to occupy their time and keep them from dwelling on their losses.

None of the adult or near-adult witches and wizards would be able to gain as much from the training as those five students that had started young. At best, if they kept at it they'd end up in peak physical condition with above-average agility and reflexes but little else.

Many of these other witches and wizards also pitched in to help with the magical side of the teens' training, something Iruka was still relatively ill-equipped for - in fact, more often than not he joined such sessions as another student.

All of the male Weasleys showed at least some aptitude for the more physical forms of combat, with most being fairly sturdily-built. Even Arthur, who regained some of his lost good cheer at learning what could at least loosely be described as "Muggle fighting techniques," proved to have some solid muscle under his somewhat pudgy frame. Watching the twins practicing their duelling together against a common opponent was fascinating: The two seemed to instinctively know how the other would react in any situation, moving and acting more like a single mind in two bodies, seamlessly and unpredictably swapping which was focusing on defense or offense.

Another standout from the family of redheads was Ronald; the revelation of what his sister's "extra lessons" had actually entailed clearly came as a shock, and yet the jealous blowup Iruka was expecting never occurred. The attack on his family home had badly shaken the youth, something Iruka had made time to speak with him about, providing a sympathetic ear that didn't require swallowing his teenaged male pride by going to his parents. Between their talks and Ron's own periods of introspection, it seemed that the insecure boy was rapidly growing into a far more mature young man. He now approached the training sessions with a focus and enthusiasm that clearly startled his family, and had shown hints of the tactical mind that his reported talent at chess suggested had been there all along. On a hunch, Iruka had arranged a mirror-call with Shikamaru for the two to play games of both chess and shogi. The jounin commander had won both times, of course, but stated that Ron had at least made him work for his wins and that the teen had plenty of room to grow yet. He'd even had Iruka make these calls a regular part of the daily routine, claiming that it would make a great break from work to play against such a promising opponent. Neither shinobi could miss the slight but distinctive infusion of confidence this gave the youngest Weasley son.

Everyone in the house was showing noticeable benefits from the time they were spending on training. It was too early for major physical gains, but already many of them were casting a bit more quickly and accurately, and the frequent group-versus-group duels with randomized team assignments were sharpening teamwork across the board.

**Λ**  
**-――――===ͽ < O > ͼ===――――-**  
**V**

The rising Sixth-Years' O.W.L. results came in mid-July. Hermione had, as expected, received straight Os; she was also noted as topping her year in Transfiguration, Astronomy, Arithmancy, and History of Magic. Harry and Neville both passed all of their classes, with Os in Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Neville also got an O in Herbology and the top score in the year, while Harry's Defense score was noted as the highest on record. Iruka made sure to point out to him that this meant he'd outscored both Albus Dumbledore and Tom Riddle.

**Λ**  
**-――――===ͽ < O > ͼ===――――-**  
**V**

It was late in the third week of July that they finally managed to hold a meeting of the full Horcrux-hunting group, including Harry. They gathered in Sirius's study, sealing the door behind them but only needing to give the room a cursory check-over for listening spells thanks to the extensive security wards laid in by generations of prior Black family patriarchs, many of whom could compete with Moody in terms of sheer paranoia.

Harry explained his ideas to the rest of the team, one in particular prompting a look of shocked realization from Bill.

"An anchor!" the redhead exclaimed, slapping his thigh. At the others' confused looks, he explained: "If Riddle hid a Horcrux at Hogwarts when he reapplied for the Defense job, it could have also acted as an anchor for a curse on the position! The soul fragment would provide a built-in power source, eliminating the need to spend time tapping into the wards or ley lines, and its active malevolence and sort-of-mind would keep the curse going without having to use complex rune schemes to define the effect. It's quite brilliant really, and elegantly simple, even if its actual nature is horrifyingly evil. Once the war's over I'd love to write something about it for the cursebreaking journals, assuming I can keep certain details out to avoid attempted copycats. Anyway, the practical upshot is that if we can find and destroy the Horcrux at Hogwarts, there's a good chance it'll get rid of the Defense curse at the same time."

"A definite ray of hope, then," Albus beamed. "Wonderful! Already it seems clear that Harry's insights will prove invaluable."

"That still leaves us needing to figure out both _what_ and _where_ exactly that Horcrux is," Remus reminded them all, "plus one other Horcrux, if Riddle did end up making six. The diary, locket, and ring," he counted off on his fingers, "that's three destroyed already. We're pretty certain that the snake is another, making four, which leaves two. If Harry's thoughts pan out, that means we're looking for one at Hogwarts and one in a Gringotts vault. Bill, you actually work there; any ideas on how we might be able to convince the goblins to work with us on this, preferably discreetly?"

Bill looked _very_ uncomfortable as he answered. "I can't say too much about the inner workings of the bank itself; all wizarding employees are under at least some form of confidentiality contract, and the penalties for violation, well... Let's just say the goblins take terms like 'severance' and 'termination' a lot more literally than humans. As for your question, the goblins might - _might_ \- be amenable to helping in a limited fashion, but only under the right conditions. Easiest would be if whoever's vault it was in did something stupid like cursing a Gringotts goblin inside the bank or otherwise violating the terms of the vaultholder agreement, since then Gringotts would no longer be bound by contract, treaty, or honor to protect the vault's contents. Past that things get murkier, and it'd really come down to the specific circumstances unless the Ministry offered up some pretty substantial concessions to make up for the loss of honor from breaching a client's trust."

Albus shook his head. "Even if I thought such concessions to be possible - which under the present Ministry is a dream at best - it would be too overt a move to conceal from Lord Voldemort, likely tipping our hand and alerting him that we were hunting his Horcruxes."

"So one of the Death Eaters (we don't know which one) probably has something (we don't know what) in their vault, and we need to destroy it or get it destroyed (and we don't know how)," Sirius summed up. "Should be easy, right?"

"I'll start reading up on the Goblin treaties," Remus offered, "see exactly what obligations and constraints they're under. Sirius, could I get a look at the vaultholder agreements for your vaults? The terms on Black family vaults are more likely to be similar to those for the Death Eaters than any others we'd have access to, assuming Gringotts' copies are confidential?" This last question was directed at Bill and met with a nod.

"I might have an idea, if we don't find out whose vault it is some other way," Iruka ventured. "Albus, you could confide to Professor Snape that you intend to propose that the Ministry start fining or outright seizing the vaults of convicted Death Eaters, at least those that freely admitted their guilt. He could then bring this up at the next meeting of the Death Eaters, even potentially showing Riddle his memory of it, and watch for any reactions that seem excessive or out of place. The Death Eaters that went to Azkaban rather than renouncing their master or making excuses seem like the ones most likely to be 'rewarded' with guardianship over one of his Horcruxes, after all."

Dumbledore nodded musingly. "Yes, that might indeed provoke an informative reaction. I might well even follow through on the proposal, as on the off chance it won approval it could bring our side increased financial resources for the prosecution of the war while denying such to the enemy."

"Might want to wait on that for now, though," Sirius commented, "at least until we're closer to being ready to make a move. Knowing who stashed the Horcrux in their vault won't do us much good if they took it _out_ of their vault before we got there."

"Still, sounds like we've got at least the start of a plan on the one in Gringotts, then," Moody grumbled while simultaneously eyeing both the door and something on or behind the ceiling. "What about findin' the one in Hogwarts?"

"Have you asked the ghosts?" Harry asked. "I mean, if Myrtle helped us find the Chamber of Secrets, maybe she or one of the other ghosts might know something about missing relics or maybe remember Tom Riddle going somewhere he shouldn't have..."

"The elves, too," Iruka said in realization. "It was Flippy, the elf I had assigned to me when I was first hired on, that told me about the Room of Requirement. They must know the castle better than anybody else, all the little hiding spots and forgotten places."

"Don't forget the portraits," Sirius chimed in, "I mean, Merlin knows how much memory they have, but the Fat Lady certainly recognized me back in '93, and I didn't exactly look that much like my Seventh-Year self."

"I'd queried the portraits," Albus said, deep in thought, "but not the ghosts, who are not bound to keep the Headmaster's secrets as the portraits are by Hogwarts' enchantments, nor the house-elves, most of whom are likely too young to have encountered Tom Riddle. At this late stage, I would say that the possible gains from speaking with the ghosts outweigh the risk that others might learn of my inquiry, especially given how unlikely such a leak would be with how little the school's ghosts interact with the living. As for the elves, I will put the question to a couple of them when I return to my office and have them make my interest in the matter known to their fellows. No Hogwarts elf would betray a secret of the Headmaster, and as we have already seen in the past with Dobby, they regard Lord Voldemort with the utmost antipathy and should readily work against his interests."

"And if it pans out, it'll be another case of his dismissal of non-wizards coming back to bite him on the arse," Sirius grinned viciously.

**Λ**  
**-――――===ͽ < O > ͼ===――――-**  
**V**

All the kids in Number Twelve took a bit of a break from training the last couple days of July in celebration of Harry's and Neville's sixteenth birthdays. The Weasley Twins gifted both boys with a selection of their inventions, much to Molly's chagrin. After the party, they quietly made it clear that some of the items in the packages were versions not available for public sale, as their effects had been altered or increased in ways that took them well beyond harmless jokes. Fred's description of the Portable Super-Swamps sounded frighteningly like a miniaturized version of Jiraiya's infamous Swamp of the Underworld ninjutsu.

Leave it to those two to effectively weaponize pranking.

Ginny's birthday came up in early August, at which she too received pranking and defensive items from her twin brothers. They also gave similar packages to Luna and Hermione. "Early birthday presents, you understand." "After all, can't have you lovely ladies-" "-feeling left out!" "We don't think McGonagall-" "-would let us back into the school-" "to give them to you on the days." "It seems we might not have left-" "-an entirely favorable impression." "No idea how that happened."

**Λ**  
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**V**

A little over a week after Ginny's birthday, Albus informed his fellow Horcrux-hunters that he'd identified their last target. He'd begun his questioning with the four House Ghosts, and upon finally tracking down the elusive Grey Lady for a chat she'd had quite a lot to say when asked about one Tom Marvolo Riddle.

While the Headmaster stated that much of what had been said was a private matter, he did relate that the charismatic young wizard had charmed the ghost, convincing her to share with him the hiding place of a relic of Rowena Ravenclaw. Ravenclaw's Diadem, purported to grant wisdom to the wearer, had been lost for centuries despite the best efforts of many students alumni of the House of blue and bronze.

Ghosts' memories could not be copied for viewing in a Pensieve, but fortunately the Ravenclaw Common Room held a statue of their House's Founder wearing her famous Diadem, so the team had at least a good idea of what it looked like. Albus had already asked the school's elves to be on the lookout for either the Diadem or Hufflepuff's Cup, but not to permit anyone to touch them if they were found. The search of Hogwarts had thus begun in earnest, but it was a big castle with a great many secrets.

**Λ**  
**-――――===ͽ < O > ͼ===――――-**  
**V**

There were once again Aurors stationed at Platform 9 3/4 when it was time for students to return to Hogwarts. While there hadn't been any operations on the scale of the coordinated attacks at the start of the summer, Voldemort and his followers had remained active. They'd been slowly running the DMLE ragged with a near-constant stream of small hit-and-run strikes, mostly against Muggles or ill-defended wizarding targets, interspersed with larger attacks such as the destruction of a bridge in the West Country by giants. The timing on these major operations was unpredictable, leaving the Aurors and Hit Wizards forced to respond to every attack in force or risk a repeat of one of the earliest such incidents in which the first squad to arrive on-scene was completely wiped out.

Even the smaller cases weren't safe, however, as occasionally some of Voldemort's forces would remain nearby in hiding, waiting to strike at targets of opportunity before withdrawing for real. Half a dozen Aurors and Hit Wizards had been killed or injured by such ambushes, as had two Healers, five Obliviators, and a particularly ghoulish photographer for the Daily Prophet.

Cornelius Fudge was starting to flounder badly, according to Albus and Amelia (Madam Bones had, after over a month at Number Twelve, invited Iruka and a few other Order members to use her first name). As much as the Ministry's responsiveness was winning him plaudits, he simply didn't have the temperament to lead in wartime and it was really beginning to show. Both Amelia and Albus were increasingly having to ride herd on the Minister, keeping him focused and steady and talking him out of rash actions. Their job was partially helped and partially hindered by Rufus Scrimgeour, the current Head of the Aurors.

While the man's competence as an administrator and dedication to victory was unquestioned, he was also very much a political animal. As such, though he did help keep Fudge reasonably focused and on-task, he also tended to counsel proactive moves that might look good to the public but would be of little help in actually winning the war. A series of pamphlets he had helped compose advising citizens on how to keep safe _did_ contain some useful information, but they were more geared towards helping people _feel_ safer. He also advocated for "casting a wider net in pursuit of potential Death Eaters", i.e. arresting witches and wizards almost at random based upon even the flimsiest of circumstantial evidence. The less said about his suggestion that the Ministry immediately ship them to Azkaban without investigation or trial, or Sirius's reaction when he heard about it, the better.

The students reached Hogwarts without incident, and many seemed to visibly shed tension as they entered the Great Hall for the Welcoming Feast. Very few were completely at ease, not even the Death Eater children that'd spent their time at school thus far openly supporting Voldemort's cause; those walking trouble spots mostly put on a show of smug bravado, but some clearly realized that they were vastly outnumbered by hostile wands here, and more than a few had returned from summer holidays with much older, more haunted eyes. Draco Malfoy, Harry's would-be school nemesis, fell into this latter category.

Horace Slughorn was announced as taking over the teaching of Potions (to much celebration among the students), with Professor Snape moving to the Defense post, something that rumor claimed he'd long desired. Albus had finally acquiesced as he had Slughorn to handle Potions and there simply weren't any other reasonable candidates available to teach Defense; with the war now in full swing, the Ministry just couldn't spare anyone competent. The Headmaster had expressed his worry over the suspected curse on the position, but was hopeful that Bill was right about the effects of destroying the Horcrux they suspected was in the castle.

Several Aurors had also been stationed at the school, and a slew of new rules and restrictions had been crafted for security reasons: Curfew was to be much more strictly enforced, with Prefects carrying out headcounts of their Houses every night. Students traveling to and returning from Hogsmeade would be subject to potential searches for dangerous items; pranks, alcohol, and other more mundane contraband would generally be overlooked by the Aurors performing such checks. These students would also be expected to check out and back in, so that the staff knew who should be in the castle at any given time. Unannounced was the search of the students' luggage during the Feast, again looking for Dark artifacts, poisons, books of illegal magic, or other indications that a student might pose a threat to others. Only one student would actually run afoul of this search, a Seventh-Year Slytherin boy that'd brought a dagger cursed to cause obvious and incurable scarring. He was quietly removed and, being legally an adult, sent off to the DMLE.

**Λ**  
**-――――===ͽ < O > ͼ===――――-**  
**V**

To the surprise of approximately nobody, Horace Slughorn had promptly resurrected his old "Slug Club," seeking to meet and build connections with and between those students he expected to be the rising stars of Wizarding Britain. All five students in S.E.N. had received invitations; even without their individual qualifications, there was no denying the splash they'd made by surviving a battle against more than double their number in Death Eaters. Harry had grumbled quite a bit about fancy gatherings and hobnobbing, but was reminded by his friends that it would be a good opportunity to make new friends, allies, and connections for the future. According to Luna, the bespectacled teen had "bravely endured the tasty snacks and pleasant conversation" with the aid of his friends.

The following Saturday, Iruka headed up to open the Room for training as usual. What wasn't usual was the First-Year girl standing right near the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. She startled nervously and dashed off at his approach, noisily dropping the pair of scales she'd been holding. It was odd, and even at the best of times "odd" meant "suspicious" to a ninja. Even more suspicious, however, was how she moved: There were plenty of ways to alter one's appearance, even without magic or chakra, but those abilities greatly broadened the variety of methods available for disguise and infiltration. From basic tricks like the Henshin no Jutsu up to the Yamanaka clan's hijutsu, the possibilities were vast. Because of this, shinobi had long studied the subtle tells that could mark a person as being other than they appeared, and experienced ninja knew both to watch for them in others and to avoid them when going in disguise themselves. In practice this meant that every attempt at disguise became a contest between the infiltrator's skill at hiding their tells and any observers' skills at spotting them.

On the other hand, someone _without_ proper training in the field was left practically announcing themselves openly to every reasonably-intelligent ninja that bothered to look. Iruka promptly found the nearest out-of-the-way nook and pulled out his recently-issued copy of the Staff Map, created specifically for use in defending the castle. Looking at the relevant area, he was reasonably certain that none of that year's First-Year girls had been named "Gregory Goyle". A further search of the castle showed Vincent Crabbe in the Slytherin Common Room, but couldn't locate Draco Malfoy. Given the presence of Goyle as a disguised sentry and the fact that those working on the Maps still couldn't get them to consistently show the Room of Requirement, the blonde Slytherin's location was fairly obvious.

Unfortunately, the Room's door wasn't visible at the moment, and Iruka knew from testing it with his students that only whoever was inside could open it now. The loud clatter of the dropped scales had probably been a signal, warning Malfoy that there was someone approaching, so unless the young bully was spectacularly stupid he wouldn't be coming out any time soon.

Iruka stuck around to watch the area of the door for a few minutes, just in case.

Hearing his students coming, the chuunin sighed and acknowledged that it just wasn't going to be that easy. Beyond not immediately finding out what was going on, there was also the question of what to do about the day's training. Most likely they'd just have to temporarily secure one of the many unused classrooms and focus on what they could do without a miraculous training area.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, you give the twins even a bit of slack on their leashes...
> 
> So here we are, heading into the final major book of Will of Fire. This one's going to be pretty action-heavy, but hopefully I've kept the fight scenes diverse enough to remain interesting.
> 
> The Seventh-Year Slytherin with the cursed dagger was just an idiot that thought he could get away with anything. He brought the dagger with no clearer idea than just maybe using it to "teach some mudbloods their place".


	2. Hidden Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've added a brief scene to Chapter 3 of the previous story, as a reviewer pointed out that I hadn't mentioned Hagrid's return. Constructive criticism ftw!

While ordinary student shenanigans were hardly a major issue, Iruka couldn't help but feel that whatever Malfoy was doing was anything but ordinary. No amount of glamour charms would make a boy the size of Gregory Goyle able to pass for a First-Year (aside from possibly an eleven-year-old Hagrid); far more likely was Polyjuice, not a potion that was readily available. To use such a potion in this way strongly suggested something far more serious than schoolboy antics, to say nothing of the Malfoy family's close association with Voldemort.

Iruka went to consult with Headmaster Dumbledore that same day.

"I am aware of at least the general nature of young Mr. Malfoy's endeavor," Albus assured him, "and am confident that Severus has the matter well in hand at present. Should that change, we will of course take appropriate action."

"The general nature?" Iruka asked, "So do you or don't you know what he's actually doing in the Room of Requirement?"

"I do not," Dumbledore replied, "but I do know what his end goal is, and Severus is monitoring the situation as best he can without betraying his true allegiances. We would know more, but unfortunately Bellatrix Lestrange took it upon herself to teach her nephew Occlumency over the summer. Young Draco's defenses are far from ironclad, but they are more than adequate to detect and repel subtle intrusions and to make memory alterations far more difficult and apparent. I shudder to think how harsh her training methods must have been to produce such a result so quickly, even if he may have received some rudimentary instruction previously."

"Would you mind if I at least checked? I'm pretty sure I could get in without Malfoy noticing while he's entering the Room, which should let me get a look at what he's up to..."

**Λ**   
**-――――===ͽ < O > ͼ===――――-**   
**V**

Albus had agreed with Iruka's plan on the proviso that he must not allow himself to be discovered. This was why the chuunin was now Disillusioned and traveling via walls and ceilings as he shadowed Draco Malfoy up to the seventh floor after breakfast on Sunday. He'd already informed Harry that he'd likely be indisposed for the whole day and to speak to the Headmaster if he had any concerns; it wouldn't do to worry his students unnecessarily, especially so soon after his abduction that spring.

The blonde was joined by what appeared to be a Second-Year Hufflepuff but again moved like a person in an unfamiliar body. As Malfoy paced the hallway, Iruka quickly wove a subtle genjutsu over the lookout to divert his attention for the few seconds the door to the Room was open; he'd have used genjutsu on both, but didn't trust it to go undetected on the Occlumency-trained Sixth-Year.

The door was only open very briefly, but Iruka managed to make it through before it closed without causing a disturbance. The Room's form this time was cavernous, even larger than the configuration used for S.E.N.'s training, and everywhere the chuunin looked were heaps and piles of... stuff. It truly was a random hodgepodge of just about anything and everything, though it leaned somewhat towards more damaged or distressed items. Books, furniture, jewelry, potions, toys, clothing, weapons - he wasn't sure he wanted to know the story behind the blood on that old battleaxe - it was all piled together seemingly at random, though there was one large collection of empty sherry bottles near the door.

Malfoy moved off down one of the narrow gaps between the piles with the purposeful stride of someone that knows where they're going. Iruka followed, taking care both to avoid disturbing any of the various items strewn on the floor and to memorize the path they were taking. Finally they stopped, and the young wizard dropped his bookbag and pulled out a sheaf of loose parchments. As Iruka watched, Malfoy began working on a large black-and-gold cabinet with damage to its lower portions, looking as if it'd been dropped from a height.

The usually flippant teen was surprisingly meticulous in his efforts, carefully aligning broken pieces before quietly casting various different spells, the only one of which Iruka could recognize was a basic Repair Charm. Sometimes one of the cracks would mend, producing a sigh of relief and satisfaction; usually they wouldn't, resulting in muttered curses and visible frustration. Malfoy also frequently looked back to the parchments he'd pulled out, occasionally using a self-inking quill to make small notes or annotations. Obviously, whatever the teen's project was, it centered around fixing this cabinet, and while it seemed like a decently-built piece of furniture, something told Iruka that he wasn't planning on using it as a gift.

After about half an hour Iruka decided to look around a bit nearby; there wasn't all that much more he could learn with his surveillance target more or less stationary and thoroughly preoccupied, and he couldn't leave yet without arousing suspicions. He still made certain to stay at least within earshot of the Malfoy scion, just in case the situation changed, but exploring this vast collection of lost and abandoned items _had_ to be a more productive use of his time than watching clandestine amateur furniture repair.

It was a couple of alleyways over that the chuunin discovered just how much more productive his exploration would be: Sitting among the assorted junk was a slightly tarnished silver tiara with an oval-cut sapphire at the center - the lost Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, and known Horcrux of Lord Voldemort. Iruka didn't gasp out loud - he wasn't a green genin - but his breath definitely caught at the importance of this discovery. He itched to call Dobby and summon Headmaster Dumbledore with a basilisk fang immediately, but knew that he had to keep his presence hidden.

What followed was a long, _long_ day. Malfoy worked almost ceaselessly, only stopping for brief trips out to the nearest washroom. He didn't even go down to lunch, sustaining himself instead on napkin-wrapped sandwiches and bottles of butterbeer he'd brought in his bookbag. Iruka made do with unsealing a ration bar and bottle of water several alleys away and improvising a bit for other necessities. Each time he went to the door, Iruka followed, listening as Crabbe or Goyle (the two must have been trading off lookout shifts) was told to remain on watch. Finally, as dinner approached, the chuunin's quarry instead told his minion, "I'm done for today, let's get some proper food."

After the two had passed out of sight and earshot, Iruka dropped his Disillusionment spell and again pulled out his Staff Map to make sure that there was nobody around. Confirming that the coast was clear, he pulled out pencil and paper to write a quick note and called for Dobby; the elf appeared this time in a blue pinstripe suit, long tan overcoat, and red trainers. "Please bring this to Headmaster Dumbledore," he instructed, handing over the note. As Dobby vanished with the usual crack, the chuunin walked over to the door and watched the Map.

Around fifteen minutes later Albus's dot on the Map was coming down the corridor, prompting Iruka to push the door open for him. The Headmaster's eyes widened on seeing the form the Room had taken. "Oh my, that is quite the trove. I presume that somewhere within is the reason you asked me to come as soon as I could do so discreetly, and to bring a basilisk fang?"

Iruka nodded. "It's this way. We'll pass the item Draco Malfoy's been working on; maybe you'll be able to figure out what it is and why he's so intent on repairing it. Probably better to save that for after, though."

Soon enough the two had reached the Diadem. The Headmaster's eyes took on a look of sadness as they beheld it. "Indeed, that does appear to be Ravenclaw's Diadem," he said as he withdrew a case from his robes, opening it to reveal a basilisk fang. "Once more, Lord Voldemort's pride and hubris work in our favor: He could have buried his Horcrux deep inside one of these piles, hiding it from all but the most determined of searchers, but instead he placed it somewhere practically on display. It is a pity to be forced to destroy yet another priceless relic, but such is necessity..." With that, the aged wizard brought the fang down upon the sapphire at the Diadem's brow, splitting it and releasing the now all-too-familiar cloud of wailing smoke that announced the destruction of a Horcrux. "I suppose we shall see in some months' time whether William was correct in suspecting the Diadem of being the means by which Lord Voldemort cursed the Defense position. Severus will undoubtedly be less displeased than usual if the curse is indeed broken."

After putting away the basilisk fang Albus proceeded to place the Diadem in a transfigured box and replaced it with a transfigured replica, in both cases using empty packaging from Iruka's "lunch" as raw materials. "I would prefer to disturb the area as little as possible," he explained, "at least for the present. Now, what is it that was the focus of Mister Malfoy's attention?"

Iruka led him back along the way they'd come. "He spent pretty much the entire day working on fixing this cabinet. I don't know what it is, but it definitely wasn't a matter of a simple Repair Charm. Malfoy had a bunch of parchment covered with notes - I couldn't really get close enough for a good look - and was referencing them as he worked."

"Interesting..." the Headmaster mused. "I believe that this is a Vanishing Cabinet. If I recall correctly, the Weasley twins managed to trap an upper-year Slytherin boy inside last year, from which he only escaped by somehow Apparating out and finding himself stuck in the U-bend of a toilet. A most curious incident."

The chuunin furrowed his brows in thought. "He Apparated out? Inside Hogwarts? I wonder if that's related to why Malfoy's working on it - maybe it somehow interferes with the school's wards."

Albus nodded. "Indeed, it would seem that whatever protections the castle has against unauthorized magical transit, this Vanishing Cabinet may well act as a path through them. It is quite possible that anyone trained in Apparition could, were the Cabinet whole and functioning properly, leave the grounds unimpeded by Disapparating from within."

"So he's looking for an emergency escape route? Something nobody knows about to block?"

"Possibly," the Headmaster allowed, "and it would be consistent with his ultimate objective."

"Albus," Iruka said sharply, "you've been very coy about exactly _what_ Malfoy's goal is. I think I, or at least someone else like Moody or Minerva, needs to know the full story. He's clearly up to something nefarious, presumably on his father's orders or Voldemort's, which means he might pose a threat to the castle and the students. We need to make sure all the angles are covered."

Dumbledore sighed. "I suppose you're right, though I would ask you to keep this matter in the strictest confidence unless it is absolutely necessary to protect the innocent. Young Draco has been tasked by Lord Voldemort with assassinating me before this school year ends. He has apparently been told that his parents will suffer for his failure or for any delay, but Severus suspects that it is far more likely that Draco himself will be the one punished if he should fail. Between the destruction of the diary Horcrux and the failure in the Department of Mysteries, Lucius has rather catastrophically fallen from his master's good graces, such as they are."

"Couldn't happen to a nicer guy," Iruka commented.

"Quite." The corner of Albus's mouth quirked upward slightly before his serious demeanor reasserted itself. "In any event, even with these failures Lucius himself is of more immediate use to Lord Voldemort than Draco, given his greater knowledge and experience, and so is being punished by having his son set an all-but-impossible task with a harsh penalty for failure."

"So if he fails," Iruka summed up, "he suffers and thus punishes his parents; if he succeeds, he removes a major obstacle without Voldemort having to lift a finger. Either way Voldemort comes out ahead. What I'm a bit confused by is why you're basically taking a 'wait and see' approach to all this: Are you waiting until you have evidence that would allow you to arrest or expel him without revealing that you have an inside source?"

"That is a part of it," the Headmaster conceded, "but another part is the fact that expelling the lad would almost certainly lead to his death, as he would be of no further use to Lord Voldemort and would thus be 'made an example of' both to discourage failure and to punish his parents. Given that he is still not yet of age, and according to Severus has lost his ardor for Lord Voldemort's cause after witnessing first-hand what it truly involves, I would hope that young Draco might still be able to become a productive member of society."

"So don't expel him, then," the chuunin offered, "confine him somewhere that he's safe and won't pose a threat to others. I doubt Voldemort would stage a jailbreak just to get to Draco Malfoy."

Dumbledore shook his head. "In that circumstance, Lord Voldemort's ire would simply fall upon Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. While Draco's father has a long list of crimes to his name his mother is not herself a Death Eater and has, to my knowledge, kept her hands clean of any wrongdoing, and I am hesitant to condemn her to whatever cruel death her husband's master would enact upon her. Their demise would also greatly hamper any effort to pull their son back from the precipice on which he currently stands."

"She might not have actually joined the Death Eaters or participated in their crimes, but she also doesn't seem to have objected to them at all," Iruka countered. "From what Sirius has said about her, Narcissa was just as much in favor of the Death Eater agenda as her sister Bellatrix. She's fully supported Voldemort right up to the point where he started to cause trouble for _her_ , so I can't really find much sympathy now that she's reaping what she sowed. Her son hasn't exactly been much better, considering I remember him crowing eagerly about the impending mass-murder of Muggle-borns when he was _twelve_."

Albus sighed sadly. "I cannot truly deny your points, but at the same time I cannot help but wish to minimize the loss of life on _both_ sides of this conflict."

"That's an admirable goal," Iruka acknowledged, "and one I can support, just as long as we don't end up sacrificing the innocent to save the guilty. For now it makes sense to stand back and monitor the situation with Malfoy, at least until you can act against him in some way without revealing that you knew about his plan the whole time. We just need to try and anticipate his moves a bit to make sure the other students don't end up as collateral damage. But first, since we're both missing dinner, would you mind if I called for a bit of food?" At the Headmaster's assent, he called Dobby to ask for some of whatever was being served for dinner that evening. While the eccentric elf was gone, Albus conjured a small table and two comfortable chairs in the cleared patch of floor in front of the Vanishing Cabinet.

"So you said this cabinet could let someone Apparate out of the castle through the wards?" the chuunin asked once the two had tucked in to a nice shepherd's pie. Albus nodded. "Has Malfoy actually _learned_ how to Apparate yet? The other Sixth-Years don't start their lessons until after the New Year."

The Headmaster shook his head in the negative. "His summer was rather consumed with training in Occlumency and Dark curses under his aunt's tutelage. It is of course possible that he might have received lessons at some point previously, or perhaps might learn over the winter holidays, but in all likelihood he will learn no sooner than his classmates."

Iruka frowned. "Then why's he working so hard on this cabinet? Sure, securing an escape route is important, but he seems to be focusing on this pretty heavily when escaping is generally the _last_ step. Does he even have a plan yet to achieve his actual objective?"

"Perhaps he intends to use the Cabinet as more than simply a means of egress?" Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "Vanishing Cabinets are generally created in pairs; when the doors of one Cabinet are closed, its contents are transferred instantly to that Cabinet's partner. This, combined with their ability to bypass wards, led many of those families that could afford such to keep one Cabinet of a pair in their homes during Lord Voldemort's previous rise. Should their home come under attack, they could then use the Cabinet in a similar manner to the circles you and Pandora created."

"Unfortunately," he continued, "this in turn led to the Death Eaters actively destroying anything they suspected might be a Vanishing Cabinet. They were already uncommon and rather expensive, but nowadays finding a matching pair is extremely rare. Those that do remain are largely held as prized family possessions, both for their use and for their tremendous monetary value. _If_ , however, this Cabinet has a working partner to which Mister Malfoy has access..."

A chill ran down Iruka's spine. "He could bring anyone or anything right through Hogwarts's wards, straight into the heart of the castle, without any trouble whatsoever."

"Just so," Albus confirmed seriously, looking at the seemingly-innocuous piece of furniture. "I do not know if that is his plan, but I think I will make regular clandestine visits to this version of the Room in order to monitor the progress of the repair effort. Should it reach the point where it could feasibly be completed soon, I will take whatever measures seem most appropriate at that time to prevent any incursions. Until then, I see no reason not to allow a troubled student to occupy himself in productive work."

"And now," the Headmaster said as he stood, "unless you have any other pressing thoughts, I believe we should adjourn for the evening. Should I gain any new information or insights regarding young Draco's plans I will notify you, and I would ask you do the same for me."

"Nothing comes to mind at the moment," Iruka admitted, "though we should make sure this is dealt with so we don't give away the game." He gestured towards the table between them and the dishes on it. "Should I call Dobby to deal with the dishes and leftovers?"

"Please do."

"Dobby!"

***CRACK***

"Yes Professor Umino Sir?"

As the elf gazed longingly at the masses of clutter around them, Iruka was struck by an idea. Given who Dobby had previously served, it was worth asking. "Before you clean up these dishes, can I ask if you remember ever seeing a cabinet matching this one while you were working for the Malfoys?"

Dobby looked thoughtfully at the cabinet for a moment, before nodding his head eagerly. "Dobby remembers! There was being a cabinet just like this one but not broken at a store in the dark alley that bad old master used to visit."

Albus's eyes sharpened. "Do you recall which store, Dobby?"

The elf nodded again. "It is being called Borgin and Burkies."

Iruka smiled. "Thank you, Dobby. Could you clean up our dinner, but leave the rest of this room alone for now? We don't want anybody to know we were in here, and someone might notice if all of these piles were suddenly neat and tidy."

Dobby nodded with a slightly disappointed expression, before snapping his fingers and vanishing along with the dishes and leftovers. Albus then Vanished the table and chairs, and the two men left after checking on the Staff Map to make sure they could do so unobserved.

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**V**

It was a few days later, when Iruka was describing the whole Malfoy situation over his mirror, that he felt a surge of tremendous hope coupled with the need to slap his own forehead.

 _«Wait_ , _»_ said Kakashi, _«so if these things can transport people long distances and through wards, what about between worlds?»_

«Well now I just feel stupid.»

The Sixth chuckled. _«You can't think of everything by yourself, Iruka,»_ he chided, _«and you talk to us so you don't have to. Ask Dumbledore-sensei about it, and whether such a cabinet could potentially be shrunk or sealed for transport if he thinks it might work between there and here. If it might work but can't be sealed or shrunk, we'll need size and mass values to make sure Naruto puts enough chakra in for Gamato to carry it back. Oh, and you'll obviously need to get the other cabinet and make sure they're both working, we can't exactly help you on that part.»_

«I'll talk to Albus.»

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**V**

The Headmaster sat back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "That is an intriguing prospect, indeed. I obviously cannot know whether Vanishing Cabinets would work between worlds, but the successful operation of the two-way mirrors suggests a strong possibility that they would. Should that prove true, it could allow us to begin bringing over some of those reinforcements Lord Hokage has been readying, and given what I understand of the capabilities of your people that could very quickly provide us with a combat force that Lord Voldemort would be extremely hard-pressed to match."

"As for whether a Vanishing Cabinet could be sealed or shrunk to aid in transport," he continued, "I do not believe so. Many of the more complex or potent magical creations tend to respond poorly to the introduction of outside magics unless designed otherwise. Given the cost of a failed attempt, I feel that it would be wiser to send a Cabinet unaltered."

"Mostly good news, then," Iruka said, "but that leaves the question of whether we can actually _get_ a matched set of Vanishing Cabinets."

Albus shook his head. "Almost certainly not. As I stated previously, there are very few such pairs still extant, with most having been purchased during prior wars and subsequently destroyed. What few remain are unlikely to be available for sale at any price, resting either in the hands of those unfriendly to our interests or with people for whom they represent a possibility of escape from mortal danger. Neither group would be willing to part with their Cabinets, and anyone who would has likely already sold theirs for a substantial sum in the past few months. Had we acted to obtain a set before Lord Voldemort's return, we might have succeeded at considerable expense, but at the time they seemed unnecessary either because there was no chance to send one to your homeland or because you already had a plan in place to establish a two-way link."

"That all makes sense," Iruka agreed with a sad nod, "but what about the pair Malfoy's working on? If the one at Hogwarts is properly repaired and we get our hands on its counterpart, that would both remove it as an asset for the Death Eaters and make it available for our use. Actually, do we even know if the other cabinet's still in Borgin and Burkes?"

"I had Severus take a quick glance into Borgin and Burkes after learning of the possible sister Cabinet's presence there," Dumbledore answered, "and he confirmed that it was still present, though hung with a sign marking it as already sold. And while I have no doubt that I and others in the Order could repair Hogwarts's Cabinet far more quickly than Mister Malfoy's inexpert work, it would still take some time, on the order of days if not weeks. The problem is one of secrecy: The sister Cabinet is clearly not for sale and many of the shops in Knockturn Alley have rather substantial defenses against theft. There is, simply put, no subtle way available to acquire that Cabinet that would not immediately tip our hand regarding young Draco's plotting."

"It might be worse than that," Iruka admitted. "My memory of my time under Voldemort's wand is obviously a bit jumbled, but he did manage to at least glimpse a lot of things from my life. I managed to keep him away from anything vital, like anything about chakra or any fuuinjutsu techniques beyond what I've taught in classes, but the only way I could manage that was by shoving other memories in the way. There's a good chance that he has at least some idea of where I stand in ability compared to other shinobi, and if _we_ can think of the possibility of using Vanishing Cabinets to bring reinforcements through..."

"Then Tom may see it as well," Albus finished the thought. "That makes it all the more important that we take the greatest care if we seek to go that route. Should Lord Voldemort realize that we are poised to gain such powerful allies, necessity would compel him to prevent it at any cost. He would strike at us with all of the forces he could muster in time."

"That could actually work in our favor," Iruka pointed out, "since it would allow us to dictate his actions to a degree. One of the bigger problems we've been facing so far is the way our enemies are sticking to hit-and-run tactics and otherwise hiding out. Dragging them out into open battle could give us the chance to take most of them down in one fell swoop. It may also be our best bet for getting Riddle somewhere he can be put down for good, especially if he brings his snake along."

Dumbledore nodded. "Still, both for the sake of the family Malfoy and to ensure that we are as prepared as possible, we should hold off acting on either Cabinet until all of the Horcruxes save for the snake have been dealt with. Allowing young Draco to continue his repair efforts should also reduce the amount of time we need to complete the repairs once we do seize the Cabinets. For now, we'll get the measurements that Lord Hokage will need and give him as much advance notice as possible of when we expect to have a Cabinet available to send over so that he can begin preparations ahead of time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The flip-flop between capitalizing and not capitalizing Cabinet is intentional, basically to reflect how the two characters view it: To Dumbledore it's "a Vanishing Cabinet" whereas to Iruka it's "an enchanted cabinet". And now "cabinet" doesn't look like a real word anymore.
> 
> I can only hope that Dobby knowing where the other Cabinet was didn't come across as too forced or contrived. It was really either that or say that Harry snooped on Draco in Knockturn same as canon, which would be plausible (nothing has changed that would prevent it) but too reliant on a convenient coincidence that just happened to be in the canon, and would probably feel at least a bit like I'd forced things back onto the canon rails.
> 
> While writing this chapter, I discovered that I'd actually contradicted canon way back in Book One by having Dumbledore able to access Iruka's training room: In the books, nothing Harry tries will open the door to the version of the Room that Draco's been using. Changing it at this point, though (having posted through late in Book Four)... I'd need to make some substantial alterations, since without seeing that training room Dumbledore would be more suspicious of Iruka because he'd have no clue what he was doing with a trio of First-Years in there. It could've been a chamber of horrors, for all he knew. Thus, in the interests of expediency and not having to heavily rework an early part of the story, I am pulling out one of my least-favorite tools - the hand-wave. Dumbledore is able to do something that Harry couldn't in canon because he has higher access privileges as Headmaster. So there.
> 
> Another bit that I'm presently having to hand-wave is Malfoy working in the Room of Hidden Things. Knowing about the Cabinet, sure, I don't think events are different enough that the Weasley Twins wouldn't have trapped Montague (or a different Slytherin) in the broken Cabinet. As a reviewer pointed out, without Marietta Edgecombe tattling to Umbridge, Draco wouldn't know about the Room of Requirement. Unfortunately, I have yet to come up with a better way for Team Good to discover the Room of Hidden Things - my best alternatives are either "the house-elves found the Diadem during their search" or "hey, why don't we see if the Room can show us where the Horcrux is?". Any ideas or suggestions are welcomed, but if I don't find/receive a better solution then this is what I'm stuck with.


	3. Search and Seizure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Brief mention of the possibility of rape via mind-affecting substances

The following weekend, the Horcrux hunters gathered once more in the Headmaster's office; the mood soared in response to the news that the Horcrux inside Hogwarts had been found and destroyed. "If this one was Ravenclaw's Diadem, that means the one still missing must be Hufflepuff's Cup," Sirius observed.

"That may be good news as well," Remus said, deep in thought. "A bit over two hundred years ago, Patroclus Carrow stole a jeweled electrum ring that had been in the Shafiq family for generations; apparently he wanted it as a gift for a witch he was wooing. The Shafiqs noticed the theft and demanded he return the ring, but he claimed it was in payment of an outstanding debt. When he couldn't produce any evidence of this supposed debt, the Wizengamot ruled in the Shafiqs' favor and ordered him to hand the ring over. In response, Carrow deposited the ring in his Gringotts vault and sent a long, angry letter to the Ministry that basically boiled down to 'Let's see you try and take it now'."

"Neither the Ministry nor the Wizengamot were amused," the werewolf continued, "and promptly passed a law stating that the bank had to hand over to the Ministry any family heirloom officially recorded as stolen. It wasn't particularly hard to enforce at the time, since the bank wouldn't fall fully back into goblin hands until 1865. Nowadays, there's a fair amount of parchmentwork required alongside official records of the item's proper ownership and reported theft, and it takes a senior Ministry official to deliver any such request - in other words, the usual ways goblins try to remind the Ministry that they're not just a bunch of fiscal house-elves. From there, it's largely down to whether the Ministry official can convince the goblins that the alleged owner is the _rightful_ owner of the item, which seems to depend largely upon how the Ministry's been treating the goblins lately and the mood of the particular goblin hearing the request."

Bill gusted out a sigh. "Lucky break for us, then. If it'd been Slytherin's Locket, we'd have had no chance, but the Smith family is supposed to be descended from Helga Hufflepuff." He received a round of blank looks in reply. "Goblins view ownership a bit differently from humans," he explained, "with something only ever truly belonging to whoever made it and their descendants. As far as they're concerned selling an object is simply a long-term lease, usually for the life of the buyer. They hate it when witches and wizards pass goblin-made items down through their own families, since to a goblin doing that is effectively a form of theft, stealing the items from the family of their maker."

"So if it'd been the Locket, they'd have considered it Riddle's rightful property and denied the request," Iruka summed up, "but they'd consider the Smiths to be the rightful owners of the Cup?"

"Exactly," Bill confirmed.

"I'll talk with Amelia," Moody said, "at least once we've got some idea of what vault it's in. She's plenty high up in the Ministry and she can keep her mouth shut."

Albus nodded. "Then I shall have Severus enact our earlier plan. With a bit of luck, we should soon have an indicator of which Death Eater was entrusted with the Cup."

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The high spirits brought about by their progress on eliminating Horcruxes lasted about a fortnight. Katie Bell, a Seventh-Year Gryffindor girl and one of the Chasers for their Quidditch team, had been nearly killed by a cursed necklace she'd somehow acquired in Hogsmeade. Based on the account of a friend that was with her at the time, the current theory was that she'd been placed under the Imperius Curse and ordered to deliver it to someone at the school. The DMLE were investigating the incident, of course, but with Bell still comatose in Saint Mungo's they didn't really have any leads to work with.

Rumors abounded as usual in Hogwarts, but nobody seemed to have any solid reason to suspect a particular culprit. Popular consensus was that the necklace had been intended for either Harry or Albus, as some sort of assassination attempt by the Death Eaters.

"Could it have been Malfoy?" Iruka asked the Headmaster. "We already know he's been assigned to kill you, and the clumsiness of this plan almost screams 'amateur': If the perpetrator was someone inside the school, they had to have known about the security measures in place, yet thought that the necklace would somehow slip by or simply disregarded them as an obstacle. An outside party would have to be either similarly overconfident or have completely failed to do even basic reconnaissance. Even if Katie Bell _had_ gotten the necklace past Filch, she'd have had to successfully deliver it to the target, though I suppose that could argue that this plot was aimed at Harry; he'd be a lot less likely to question an unexpected package from her than you would, at least as far as most would expect."

"It is certainly possible," Dumbledore allowed, "and Severus has heard nothing from within the Death Eaters' camp either before or after this incident to indicate that it was one of their number that was responsible. Neither were any known or suspected followers of Lord Voldemort sighted in Hogsmeade that day, although that is obviously far from conclusive. However, we know that young Draco already has a plan in progress to fulfill his objective; it seems unlikely that he'd have divided his efforts thus. He would also have had to get the necklace to Hogsmeade somehow, and I very much doubt that it would have been missed in the searches at the start of term. More significantly, he did not go to Hogwarts at all that day, being in detention with Minerva for neglecting his Transfiguration homework."

Iruka frowned. "It's not impossible - he could have placed the curse on Bell at some point before she left for Hogsmeade, though that doesn't answer the question of how the necklace came into her hands. Still, you're right; he's a weak suspect at best. Unfortunately, that means that we may well have _another_ would-be assassin in the castle, one that we haven't yet identified and put a watch on. Wonderful."

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**V**

It was another two weeks before Severus Snape was called to a general meeting of Death Eaters. Albus relayed to the Horcrux hunters his report that Bellatrix Lestrange had reacted even more angrily than he would have expected, with a hidden undercurrent of fear.

"Why am I not surprised," Sirius groaned. "Bella was always a fanatic, so it makes sense that she'd be the one picked. Probably also doesn't hurt that she's one of his best fighters, so not someone to be captured easily."

"Amelia's already got a lot of the forms filled out," Moody informed them, "just waiting on findin' out whose vault the Cup's in. I'll let her know soonest, so depending on how quick the goblins are about things we could have it by this time tomorrow. Not going to hold my breath, though."

"Just make sure that Amelia knows to impress upon the goblins how important it is that this seizure remains secret as long as possible," Albus urged.

"How secret they keep it will probably depend mostly on how much they like Lestrange," Bill commented, "and how little they like the Ministry. Madam Bones is at least not disliked nearly as much as a lot of witches and wizards, since she tends to be respectful, professional, and honest in her dealings with Gringotts. I can't imagine a Death Eater would be likely to show goblins any respect except at swordpoint. Still, the Ministry hasn't made any friends among the goblins, especially while Umbridge was still working there. I'd recommend offering to pay a 'confidential processing fee' just to be safe - once they take money under a contract we can at least mostly trust them to hold up their end. It'll just cost more if they're not feeling cooperative..."

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In the end, Madam Bones had paid a moderately large bribe (funded directly by Sirius to avoid questions) to secure the goblins' cooperation and silence. Unfortunately, this left them without the ready funds to afford the requested "expedited processing fee", so it would likely be some time still before the Cup would be handed over, assuming they were correct about its location. If they weren't, they'd be out a not-insubstantial amount of gold with nothing to show for it but some annoyed goblins.

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**V**

The weeks continued on, and the war with them. Outside the castle, the Death Eaters continued to launch sporadic attacks against soft targets in both the magical and Muggle worlds. Inside, more often than not the morning post would include the letters sealed with black wax that informed the recipient of a death in the family.

At least once a week, Albus would slip into the Room of Requirement while Malfoy was busy elsewhere to check up on his progress in repairing the Vanishing Cabinet. According to the Headmaster, it was still many months from completion at the present rate, though expert hands could obviously do it in far less time.

Katie Bell had woken up and was projected to make a full recovery, though it would take months. Fortunately for her, she didn't remember being cursed; from eyewitness accounts, the necklace's curse was torturous. Unfortunately for the investigation, she didn't remember _anything_ between walking into the ladies' room at the Three Broomsticks and waking up in Saint Mungo's.

Fall turned to winter, and as the holidays approached Harry, and to a lesser extent Neville, found themselves increasingly having to dodge groups of girls that tended to congregate under hangings of mistletoe when either or both of the young wizards passed by. It was actually getting to the point where these gatherings had begun blocking traffic in the corridors, which only gave the two boys more incentive to take mistletoe-free routes through the castle.

 _"I told Sasuke about your fangirl problem,"_ Naruto (or at least one of his Shadow Clones) said over the mirrors during an S.E.N. meeting. _"He sent his sympathies."_

 _"You mean he laughed so hard he almost fell out of his chair?"_ Kakashi asked with an eye-smile that was his equivalent of a shit-eating grin.

_"That too..."_

The matter got decidedly _less_ funny when Hermione reported overhearing several other girls discussing the best method for slipping Harry a love potion. At least they didn't have a large supply according to what she'd heard; Sirius had fortunately talked the Weasley Twins out of selling love potions in their joke shop, probably recalling what he'd learned about Voldemort's origins. Regardless, Iruka brought the matter up with Albus who made an announcement at dinner.

"It has come to my attention that some among you have been considering the use of love potions in order to compel an individual of your choice to bring you as their date to Professor Slughorn's upcoming party, and perhaps exploit their affections in other ways as well. I shall not mince words: Should any of you manage to inveigle another person into intimate activity through use of mind-altering magic, that would be _rape_ , and would be treated as such if discovered. It is one thing to use a mild and short-acting potion just to draw the attention of the boy or girl you're interested in, but it is a very different matter to enthrall them with stronger potions."

"And just in case any of you _do_ consider it acceptable to manufacture your chosen relationship with potions, I ask you to consider the prospect of such potions being used on _you_ and keyed to someone in whom you have no interest. Consider the idea of being trapped in a relationship with such a person, your own wishes ignored, and ask if you truly wish to inflict such a fate upon someone for whom you claim to feel affection."

"I firmly believe that every single one among you can find _real_ love in your lives. At the right time and with the right person, you will have no need of potions or other such falsitude. Treasure this when it comes, and do not debase yourselves with trickery or coercion - you, _all_ of you, are _better_ than that."

**Λ**   
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**V**

In early January, the goblins finally decided they'd kept Madam Bones waiting for a satisfactorily long period and handed over Hufflepuff's Cup. Within the hour, Voldemort was down to his last two Horcruxes.

"What about Harry?" Sirius asked. It was once again just him, Iruka, and Albus in the Headmaster's office.

Dumbledore gusted a sigh. "With the assistance from our... _consultant_ in the Elemental Nations, I have devised a ritual that we believe should extract the soul fragment without costing young Harry his life. Our efforts at present are focused on refining this ritual, maximizing its safety and chances of success. It is for that reason that I have not broached the subject as yet - I wish to refine the ritual as much as possible before attempting it. Given the fact that its original form would have required the sacrifice of another person's life, you can perhaps understand my reasoning behind the delay."

"The preparations required are... _extensive_ ," he continued, "and I would very much like whatever assistance I can get in working on them."

"You've got me," Sirius replied, "pretty much whenever, and I'm sure Iruka's in much the same boat."

Iruka nodded. "You might want to include the rest of the Horcrux team as well. I'm sure a skilled Curse-Breaker like Bill would be a lot of help in whatever time he has available. Filius has been in the circle of trust about my abilities for years now, and he's one of my best Sealing students at this point, so he might make a good addition to the prep crew."

Albus hesitated momentarily, then gave a somewhat reluctant nod. "Yes, I suppose that would speed things significantly, though until and unless I get Harry's permission I will not share any details regarding the end goal of the work. If asked, I will merely reply that it is a task essential to Lord Voldemort's ultimate downfall. They will no doubt suspect something of the nature of that task, but that cannot be avoided, and I will not be cavalier with such an important secret."

A week or so later Iruka received a delivery via Toad Express that comprised a scroll from Orochimaru filled with instructions, including much of the sealing work that would have to be done.

**Λ**   
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**V**

Tragedy struck the castle in early March. After he failed to show up for his class, Horace Slughorn was found dead in his quarters. The investigation that followed revealed that he'd been poisoned, with said poison being delivered in a bottle of expensive spiced mead. It was found that Madam Rosmerta at the Three Broomsticks had sent the bottle up to the castle, and she'd been quickly taken into custody. Her behavior when questioned, however, was odd enough that she wasn't being charged at present because she was strongly suspected of being under the Imperius Curse or other mind-altering magic. Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour had pushed for her to be charged as a Death Eater, but had thankfully been overruled by Madam Bones.

Headmaster Dumbledore was firmly in the camp of suspecting the Imperius, and thought it likely that someone in the Death Eater camp had used Madam Rosmerta as a catspaw to eliminate Slughorn at their master's behest. Iruka pointed out that Katie Bell seemed to have been Imperiused at the Three Broomsticks, suggesting that the necklace incident was an earlier attempt in the same plot. Albus thought that a likely prospect as well and passed the suggestion along to the DMLE, though there still weren't any clear leads to the true perpetrator.

Potions classes after Professor Slughorn's death were, to put it bluntly, a fiasco. Snape was too busy teaching seven years of Defense classes to return to his previous position, and there just weren't any other qualified candidates available to teach full-time that the Headmaster was willing to trust inside the castle with the war raging on outside. The result was a mishmash of lessons taught by other staff members with Potions qualifications (particularly for the younger years), lessons from visiting Order members and trusted employees of the Ministry and Saint Mungo's coming in during time off (and in some cases actually using vacation days), and cancelled classes or supervised study sessions.

**Λ**   
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**V**

In early May, Albus stated that he felt that the Vanishing Cabinet was close enough to being fully repaired that they would need to act soon, lest Malfoy finish his work and open a path into the heart of Hogwarts for Voldemort's forces. A few days later, Moody and Shacklebolt led an Auror raid on Borgin and Burkes, seizing a large haul of questionable items along with the Vanishing Cabinet there. Naruto had finished charging the seal array to send Gamato with enough chakra to bring one of the pair Vanishing Cabinets back to Konoha, so once the Cabinet from Knockturn had been inspected and confirmed to be intact, ready for use, and free from any sort of curses or booby-traps, it was sent off via Toad Express. They'd fix the damaged Cabinet on-site at Hogwarts.

At around the same time, Albus and several other staff and Order members (deliberately _not_ including Severus Snape) took Draco Malfoy and his two cronies into custody at Hogwarts: The teenaged Death Eater, who had been growing increasingly haggard as the year went on, looked almost relieved to be caught out. Each of the three were relieved of their wands and searched thoroughly before being more-or-less walled up in separate suites of rooms in the dungeons with their food being delivered via house-elf. It was an ugly solution, but all involved were reasonably certain that it wouldn't be for long... one way or another.

Afterwards, Albus sent off a Patronus messenger and asked Iruka to accompany him back to the Headmaster's office. They arrived to find Sirius waiting to Floo in. "It occurred to me," the Headmaster said once they were all seated, "that we may well be out of time soon to remove the soul fragment afflicting Harry. If Lord Voldemort realizes our intent with the Vanishing Cabinets, and if he has any inkling of the strength of the reinforcements we hope to gain access to, he will have no choice but to act, to attempt to thwart us no matter the cost. Such an effort would almost certainly involve his direct participation, and might well be the best opportunity we will get to destroy his snake and put Voldemort himself down for good. Before that happens, however, we must deal with the soul fragment in Harry, else Voldemort would still be tied to life and all our efforts might be in vain."

"It is my intention, if you agree Sirius, to call young Mr. Potter up here to explain the situation to him and ask if he is willing to undergo the cleansing ritual. Even if the ritual _could_ be performed with an unwilling participant - and it cannot - I would not do such a thing to an innocent child like Harry."

Sirius gave his agreement, and fifteen minutes later Harry came in through the door.

"I first wish to apologize, Harry," Albus began, "for I have kept from you a vital and terrible secret these past few years. While I do not believe that telling you earlier would have done you more good than ill, the fact remains that I have held back information directly pertaining to you, and have pressed Sirius and Iruka into doing the same."

A flash of anger crossed Harry's face, before he visibly calmed himself. "I take it you've called me here to share this secret, sir?" His voice betrayed more than a hint of nervousness.

Dumbledore nodded. "You recall the Horcruxes which we have been hunting?" Harry nodded. "As I explained, each contained a fragment of Lord Voldemort's soul, torn off in part by the act of remorseless murder. He had already made five of these abominations by the time of his original downfall, and it seems likely that he intended to use your death to make the sixth and final anchor he had planned. When your mother's loving sacrifice caused his Killing Curse to rebound upon him, however, something unexpected happened."

"He had presumably already performed the preparations required for crafting a Horcrux," the Headmaster continued gravely, "and that very night committed two new murders, freshly wounding his soul. Those wounds, his preparations, and the damage caused by tearing five other pieces away previously left his soul in a state of profound instability. When he was then struck down by his own curse, it sundered his soul once more. One portion, presumably the larger if such a concept can be applied to souls, fled as the wraith that would later possess Quirinus Quirrell. The other sought out the most promising vessel nearby."

Harry's expression had been shifting into a mix of confusion and worry. Now his eyes widened in shock and horror. "I'm a Horcrux?" he croaked out, "I have to die to kill Voldemort?"

"No," Albus shook his head, "you do not, and you are not a Horcrux, not precisely. You were not prepared as a receptacle, nor was the ritual performed to bind the soul fragment to you. It is likely that the soul fragment attached to your scar might perform the same function as a Horcrux, but it is almost certainly not nearly as irrevocably attached. I have, with some assistance, been working for some time on a method by which this soul fragment can be safely removed. With all of the true Horcruxes save for Voldemort's snake now dealt with, and with other events possibly soon pushing this conflict into its endgame, the time has come for me to ask of you - _ask_ , not require - that you undergo the ritual we have devised."

"As soon as possible," Harry stated firmly. "It was bad enough just having a connection with Voldemort, but to find out that I've got a piece of him attached to me? I want that filth _gone_!"

Sirius put a supporting hand on his godson's shoulder, and all three adults in the room favored the teen with warm, proud smiles. "Gryffindor courage at its finest," the animagus said.

Harry blushed slightly and ducked his head, still not entirely accustomed to praise, before straightening and addressing the Headmaster again. "Professor, you said the soul fragment went for the most promising vessel - what did you mean by that?"

"On that matter, I'm afraid, I can only speculate," Albus replied. "It could be that you simply represented the highest concentration of nearby magic, or that you bore lingering traces of Tom's magic from his failed curse, or any of a thousand other factors or even pure chance. Perhaps the soul fragment retained enough intelligence that it thought you young enough that it could take control over you, or at least exert influence, only to be thwarted again by your mother's protection."

"Now," the Headmaster said, "we have a number of preparations to make before the ritual can be performed. With your permission, Harry, I would like to contact such friends and family of yours as I can reach to gather them here at Hogwarts if they are not already present. One of the refinements I've made to the ritual is the inclusion of those who feel love for the subject, whether familial, romantic, or platonic. Your mother's love has helped protect you these past fifteen years, and the love of others will bolster that and aid in countering the hatred infusing all parts of the soul of Lord Voldemort. In addition, the show of support can only help to strengthen your spirit."

Iruka had a sudden thought. "Albus, do these people need to be _physically_ present, or can they join in remotely?"

The habitual twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes brightened. "I dare say that it is at least worth the attempt."

The chuunin nodded, pulling out his mirror to call Konoha while Sirius and Harry began working on a list of who to invite. Given the fact that several of those invitees had jobs and their coordinated absence would draw unwanted attention, it was decided that the ritual would take place that coming Saturday.

* * *

**Omake: Other versions of Sasuke's sympathies...**

_"I told Sasuke about your fangirl problem,"_ Naruto (or at least one of his Shadow Clones) said over the mirrors during an S.E.N. meeting. _"He sent his sympathies."_

 _"You mean he scowled and said 'Hn'?"_ asked Kakashi.

_"Hey, I'm translating! Not everybody speaks Broody Avenger..."_

* * *

_"I told Sasuke about your fangirl problem,"_ Naruto (or at least one of his Shadow Clones) said over the mirrors during an S.E.N. meeting. _"He sent his sympathies."_

 _"You mean he laughed so hard he almost fell out of his chair?"_ Kakashi asked with an eye-smile that was his equivalent of a shit-eating grin.

_"He did not! He just... kinda smirked and chuckled a bit."_

_"Which, for Sasuke, is the equivalent of falling on the floor laughing."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things haven't changed in a way that would have altered/prevented the necklace incident, so I included it here, but it is one of many Grawp-sized plot-holes in Half-Blood Prince: First off, even though it's canon I hate the idea that the Imperius can make people use Unforgiveables themselves. They're supposed to require strong hatred/sadism/etc. to function properly, and how is someone going to call up those feelings while in a blissed-out fugue state? It'd be at least semi-plausible if they were already inclined to use that curse on that target, or if the Imperius allowed for a more direct possession, but as it is it doesn't make sense to me. Also, if this was the first Hogsmeade visit, then when did Draco put Madam Rosmerta under the Imperius and give her the necklace to pass along? I suppose one could say that he did it during the summer, which would also explain why he didn't account for Filch's Secrecy Sensor, but it's never properly explained.
> 
> There actually was at least a loose color-code in sealing wax historically, with black basically meaning "You're going to want to sit down before you read this." I see no reason that this wouldn't still be in use among wizards, so I included it here.


	4. Bump in the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a little late - I have no idea how I forgot to post it yesterday!

Lord Voldemort, in spite of what lesser wizards and witches might claim, feared nothing and no one. He was, however, _concerned_.

The reason for His concern was twofold: First, there had been a raid on Tom Riddle's old workplace at Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn Alley, with a substantial amount of merchandise seized. This was not an uncommon occurrence, as even during peacetime the shop would generally be raided at least once or twice a year, with both the frequency of raids and whether they were announced dependant upon a number of factors including the DMLE's current publicity needs and whether suitable sums of money had been transferred to certain Ministry personnel with sufficient regularity. Only one element of the raid was noteworthy, and even then only to a scant few individuals - among the items seized was a certain Vanishing Cabinet.

Said Vanishing Cabinet's seizure was made relevant by the second cause for concern, that being the abrupt loss of contact with Draco Malfoy and his two minders at Hogwarts. Severus had reported that all three young wizards had not been seen by anyone in the past several days, and that he was presently trying to locate them. Lord Voldemort knew of the Malfoy scion's plan to repair a damaged Vanishing Cabinet inside Hogwarts to permit His followers an unobstructed route into the castle in order to provide him with an opportunity to complete his mission; He had even shared with the boy the location of a hidden room forgotten by the masses so that he could do his work in secrecy. It was actually a far more competent and sensible plan than He would have credited the teen with the intelligence to create; the other two laughably inept attempts with the cursed necklace and the poisoned mead were much more the boy's speed.

Draco Malfoy's sudden disappearance at around the same time that the counterpart to the Cabinet he was repairing clearly indicated that the boy had, unsurprisingly, failed and gotten himself and his accomplices caught. Lord Voldemort had already made His displeasure known to the adult Malfoys, but would withhold expressing it fully until He could retrieve young Draco. After all, this was the kind of thing best experienced as a _family_.

Lord Voldemort's concern was obviously not for the fate of a boy who would soon face the consequences of both his and his father's failures, but rather for whether His adversaries could make use of the Vanishing Cabinet pair in a way that might be... _problematic._

While Iruka Umino's mental defenses had been sufficient to keep Him from readily accessing the secrets of his strange abilities, they had done so at the expense of other secrets. Lord Voldemort had seen that Umino, though able to face all but the most capable of His Death Eaters, was but a small fish in a vast ocean in his homeland. The power of some of those whom the foreigner had encountered was immense, enough so that even a handful of such individuals entering the present conflict could dominate all but the likes of Lord Voldemort himself.

That incident at the Choosing of the Champions showed that a link had been established between Umino and his home. Records accessed by Lord Voldemort's agents indicated that these talking toads were used to carry messages, like some bizarre ersatz owl. Thoughts that He'd glimpsed in Umino's mind suggested that this link was limited, only allowing small items to be carried to Britain, but that the intent had been to carry Umino himself back until the fool had chosen to remain and fight rather than leave and escape Lord Voldemort's wrath. If they could carry a person, then it might be possible that they could also carry an object the size of a Vanishing Cabinet.

There were thus three conditions to be met: The toads must be able to carry a Vanishing Cabinet back to Umino's homeland, the paired Cabinets must be able to operate over that distance, and someone on Dumbledore's side must realize this possibility. While Dumbledore was a fool in many ways, Lord Voldemort credited him with at least the competence necessary to grasp the potential in recruiting allies from Umino's home. It was certainly possible, even likely, that the seizure of the Cabinet from Borgin and Burkes was done simply to deny any future possibility of using it to sneak past Hogwarts' defenses and possibly provide one of Dumbledore's lackeys with a means of escape. That possibility was not enough to mitigate the very real danger that Dumbledore might soon obtain allies that could devastate Lord Voldemort's followers or possibly even challenge the Dark Lord Himself.

This could not be permitted. Lord Voldemort _had_ to act. Gathering the full strength of His forces would take a few days, but there was no reason that He had to commit to a full assault immediately. Perhaps a subtler approach as an opening gambit...

**Λ**   
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**V**

Iruka was shaken awake by a worried-looking Dobby on Friday night - or possibly Saturday morning. "Professor Headmaster Sir is needing Professor Umino Sir to come to the Entrance Hall right away! There is bad wizards coming!" The chuunin noted as he rose somewhat blearily and began gearing up that even elves could sometimes look worn out: While Dobby was dressed nicely, with a deep red velvet jacket with tan leather elbow patches slung over a plaid waistcoat and tweed trousers, his whole ensemble looked decidedly rumpled, particularly the big felt hat hanging over one of his large ears. Unlike most of his outfits to date, whose origins Iruka still wondered about, the colorful striped scarf Dobby was wearing was clearly not sized for a house-elf, being wrapped several times around his neck and shoulders with the ends still trailing low enough in front that he probably kicked them as he walked.

It took less than a minute from the moment his feet hit the floor for Iruka to be fully dressed and geared up for battle. Since he also no longer needed to hide his abilities nearly as much, he didn't bother holding himself to civilian speeds as he headed for the Entrance Hall. Upon reaching the Grand Staircase, the chuunin didn't bother with actual stairs, instead simply hopping over the railing and dropping the six or eight meters to the ground floor.

Albus was already waiting for him and, being well aware of Iruka's capabilities, was completely unfazed. Minerva, who'd been hustling down the Grand Staircase herself, was now gaping in shock at her unassuming middle-aged colleague casually dropping three stories onto a stone floor only to land with a softness her Animagus form would be hard-pressed to match. While she, like most of the Order, had participated in at least a few training sessions with him, he'd never had cause to actually showcase his abilities or fighting style in front of them.

As amusing as the stern, unflappable Deputy Headmistress's response was, Iruka was a professional and he carried himself as one. "What's the situation?" he asked the Headmaster.

"I've kept a rotation of house-elves watching an expanded copy of the Staff Map," the elder wizard explained, "and just received a report that a large number of wizards are attempting to reach the school through the Forbidden Forest."

"You realize this means that Voldemort has probably realized the implications?" Dumbledore nodded grimly. "How many," Iruka asked, "and are any of them particularly dangerous?"

"Thirteen," Albus replied, "though the only notable names are Walden Macnair and Quentin Travers. Both are known Death Eaters, and Macnair in particular you've encountered twice before: Based on the memories you've shown me, he was the one to organize his fellows against you in the graveyard, and also co-led the group sent against you in Hogsmeade. The rest are mostly younger, probably newer recruits." He pulled a sheet of parchment from his robes, unfolding and enlarging it to show a Staff Map that extended much further from the castle than the other copies. Both Iruka and Minerva could clearly see the cluster of dots huddled deep in the Forbidden Forest. As they watched, the dots broke into two groups; Macnair headed seven others moving straight towards the castle while Travers and the other four went off at a bit of an angle.

A smirk found its way onto Iruka's face, slowly growing into a broad grin. "You two stay here," he said, "just in case any of them slip through. I'll take care of them."

"Iruka!" Minerva gasped, "Surely you can't mean to take on so many wizards by yourself?"

"You already know I was a sort of soldier back home," he replied, "but more specifically, I was a _shinobi_. We're strong fighters, but for most of us our greatest strength is our ability to use stealth, surprise, deceit, and misdirection. Also, recall the meaning of 'Konohagakure'," he said, pointing at the emblem on his hitai-ate.

The twinkle returned to Albus's eyes. "The Village Hidden in the Leaves."

"Exactly. Like most things in war, stealth and guerrilla tactics are always strongest against opponents that haven't been trained to counter them, and so far the Death Eaters haven't really seen what a ninja can do in that arena. Throw in the fact that it'll be in the type of terrain I know best and, well..."

**Λ**   
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**V**

Having borrowed the wide-area Staff Map from Albus (and noting that they ought to upgrade the other copies to be able to show the full grounds at some point), Iruka slipped out the front doors of the castle and became a shadow among shadows. It was only a couple of days past the new moon, so only the barest sliver of moonlight added to the light of the stars - enough for Iruka to see by once he'd let his eyes adjust, but he doubted it'd be any help to the Death Eaters. As he passed Hagrid's hut he noted that the curtains were parted just slightly, leaving him to picture the normally kind and gentle groundskeeper warily watching the grounds, his massive crossbow loaded and ready to hand.

There was something relaxing, Iruka thought, about leaping branch to branch through a forest again after years away from home. It was comfortable, familiar, and conveniently enough also brought his shinobi mindset into sharp focus from where it had been languishing half-buried in the wizarding lifestyle. Yes, he might _have_ magic and he might _use_ spells and a wand, but at his core he was a ninja, and it was his ninja skills that were about to make this a very bad night for those seeking to harm his students.

After a couple of slight course-corrections (using the Map, which admittedly _did_ require a bit of wand-light to read) Iruka looked down from his hidden perch among the branches on the larger group of intruders. Only one - the man confidently leading the others towards the castle - was wearing the mask of a Death Eater, though all were garbed entirely in black with hoods pulled up. Robes, the chuunin reflected, were ill-suited to sneaking through dense forests: While Macnair's seemed to be of a cut and material that helped him minimize snags from underbrush and protruding roots and branches, the wizards following behind him weren't so lucky, and twice during the brief time Iruka was watching one of them would get caught or tripped up, making enough noise for Macnair to turn and hiss angry reminders that they were supposed to be stealthy.

The disgraced Ministry executioner thought _this_ was stealthy? One semi-quiet man and seven noisy amateurs navigating a darkened forest by dim wandlight? How quaint.

Once the group were all facing forward again after the second scolding, Iruka dropped down behind the column. He slipped up to the wizard bringing up the rear and grabbed him, making sure to cover the man's mouth, and leapt up and away back into the trees. One carefully-moderated blow to the head later and he was laying the unconscious intruder over the base of the branch. A couple minutes later, he'd repeated the process with the next wizard up the line.

As the chuunin was readying himself for a third takedown, the fourth man from the front tripped loudly over a root, prompting another angry rebuke from Macnair, who froze upon looking back. "Where the hell are Jakobs and Fields? _Don't_ shout for them!" he hissed hurriedly, leaving more than one of his remaining subordinates to look sheepish.

The group clumped up and backtracked a little ways, finding no sign of either of their missing compatriots nor any hint as to what had happened (it wasn't like Iruka had never done something like this before, after all). When they spread out slightly to search the area, one strayed far enough from his distracted fellows to make snatching him easy. Macnair immediately noticed this new absence when they all reconvened to share their lack of success. "Dammit, now Roose is gone! This isn't just imbeciles getting lost, there's something out there. Circle up, back to back! If you see anything move, curse it!"

Hmm... now that _was_ a bit of a problem. While Iruka could _probably_ take all five of his remaining targets down if he dropped into the center of their little circle, he'd learned the hard way in the Department of Mysteries that some people could be very quick with their wands. With all five armed and alert, it was just too much of a risk. On the other hand, they'd started advancing again, slowly now as they were splitting their attention between their footing and their surroundings and the game trail they'd been following wasn't really wide enough to accommodate their new formation, but Iruka couldn't really afford to simply wait and hope they went back to relaxed single-file with another group still in play.

Settling on a plan, he reached into his pouch and pulled out what he'd need, before circling wide towards the path ahead of the intruders. On his way, he deliberately allowed himself to scuff one of his footsteps a bit, just enough to be barely audible. Sure enough, Macnair's attention snapped to the general direction of where the noise had been made, his eyes narrowing. "Supersensory Charms!" he hissed.

All five black-clad figures doused their wandlights as they cast the charm to dramatically enhance their senses. Their superhuman hearing meant that they all heard the whistle of a kunai in flight, and with peripheral vision second only to the Byakugan only the two in back even needed to turn to see the knife. It was the vastly increased sensitivity to light that would prove their undoing, however, thanks to the flash bomb tied to the knife's pommel. Iruka grinned viciously at the quintuple cry of pain, shock, fear, and rage as he leapt down and swiftly knocked out all five wizards with a mix of blunt force and Stunning Hexes. _Be careful when using a jutsu,_ he thought, _or it might be used against you. I hope Ginny won't be too mad that I did, in fact, find a situation even more perfectly-suited for a flash bomb. Now, to deal with that other group..._

**/‾‾‾‾\**   
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**|||||**

"Bloody wanker, thinks he's so clever," Qentin Travers grumbled as he led his four recruits on their mission to Hogwarts, "I'll show him. Time he gets out of this Forest, I'll have already got rid of those Cabinets, and any mudblood or blood-traitor fool enough to get in my way. Maybe I'll even pay a visit by that miserable old squib; getting him out the castle would clean it more'n he ever did."

After half an hour of trekking through the Forbidden Forest, Quentin had grown tired of Macnair constantly snipping at him every time his robes brushed a bush. They were in a forest, for Merlin's sake, and in the middle of the bloody night no less! Of course they'd catch their sleeves or trip over roots, that's why civilized places got rid of all this nonsense for flat, open fields or paved it over with cobbles.

And to top it all off, for all his supposed skills in the wild that had the Dark Lord assign him to this mission, Macnair couldn't even lead them in a straight line! Sure, he _said_ he was avoiding some creature's den or following easier ground, but it was obvious he was just lost and wandering about.

So he'd told Macnair straight out that they were going wrong, and when the fool refused to see reason Travers decided to split off and go his own way. Only four of the recruits with them were smart enough to see sense, and Macnair actually laughed at him. Laughed! As if it was some great bloody joke that he'd been leading them everywhere but where they were supposed to be going!

It'd been over an hour since then, so they had to be getting close even accounting for Macnair's idiocy. After all, the Dark Lord hadn't gainsaid the executioner when he'd said the trip through the forest would take about two hours back when they were planning this mission. At least once they got to the castle proper things would go more smoothly; among the Death Eaters, only Pettigrew could possibly match Travers's knowledge of shortcuts and secret ways inside Hogwarts, and that coward would probably just try and hide somewhere like the rat he was the moment the Dark Lord let him out of his sight.

The five of them were much quieter than the full group of thirteen had been, but that was turning out to be a bit of a mixed bag. They were obviously much stealthier this way, but the quiet and the late hour also brought forward memories of all the tales Quentin had heard as a student about the horrible monsters lurking in the depths of the Forbidden Forest. He wasn't the only one getting unsettled, either - the recruits were looking increasingly nervous. Hearing what sounded like a human scream in the distance a little while ago hadn't helped.

Suddenly, there was a slight rustling a few yards into the bushes off to their left. Travers froze, then turned to his recruits. "Any of you hear- where's Coleman?!"

The _three_ recruits started, obviously not having noticed that Coleman had wandered off - or at least, Quentin _hoped_ the man had just wandered off... "Look around, quickly, he can't be far!"

A brief search didn't manage to find the missing Coleman, but it did manage to lose Winters. "What the bloody- Winters! Coleman!" Throwing caution and stealth to the wind in his growing fear, Travers shouted for the two missing recruits.

No reply.

A twig snapped behind him. He whirled around, wand up and ready to curse the first thing he saw. As he scanned the forest ahead, he heard Mathers cry out in shock. Turning again, he found Mathers to be alone, looking in horror at the empty spot where Jamison had just been standing moments before. "Bugger this for a lark," his last recruit snapped, and before Travers could reprimand him or curse him for his cowardice - and for abandoning _him_ \- the younger wizard disappeared into the gloom and the underbrush. Seconds later, Mathers's scream sounded through the forest before suddenly cutting off.

Quentin ran. He no longer cared about Macnair, or the mission, or the Dark Lord; all he cared about at this moment was getting away from whatever _monster_ just took all four of his recruits, getting out of this damned forest and never setting foot in a wild place again.

Though he didn't know it yet, his latter wish was about to be answered, in a way. He'd just paused to catch his breath when what sounded like a man's voice, dripping with amusement, whispered into his ear from behind.

" _Boo._ "

**Λ**   
**-――――===ͽ < O > ͼ===――――-**   
**V**

Iruka looked down at the last of the intruders he'd just knocked out. Perhaps it had been a bit mean of him to deliberately toy with this group, but it wasn't like these were just enemy shinobi fighting for their home village - these were terrorists, murderers, sadists, and genocidal bigots. At least some of them probably deserved far worse than a little scare. It was just a little harmless fun, really.

Now, however, came the tough part. Stronger than the average wizard he might be, but no way could Iruka carry thirteen adult men by himself, and the idea of him trying to levitate them all was even more absurd. "Dobby!"

**-――――===ͽ ͼ===――――-**

Minerva watched wide-eyed as Albus, Hagrid, and Iruka stepped in through the castle doors. Hagrid was carrying two unconscious men under each arm, while Iruka had one over his shoulder and one levitated and Albus levitated another seven. Some time after her foreign-born colleague had departed to what she was certain was his untimely death, he'd sent them a message by house-elf that he would need help bringing back all the captured intruders before one of the more unsavory denizens of the Forbidden Forest stumbled across them. Albus had promptly set out, planning to use the extended Staff Map that Iruka sent back with the oddly-dressed elf to locate the wizards he was going to retrieve. Apparently he'd also picked up Hagrid along the way, presumably as both guide and aid - levitating seven wizards such a distance was no mean feat, but eleven might have taxed even the powerful Headmaster's abilities. She herself had remained behind just in case someone had slipped the net somehow.

Now, she took over levitating two of Albus's load as they all trooped down to the castle's dungeons. While they hadn't seen real use in many centuries (unless certain tales of Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black were to be believed) there _were_ actual cells for prisoners. They weren't anywhere near the areas used today, of course, though Minerva had no doubt that the more adventurous students were well aware of them.

As they thoroughly searched each of the unconscious wizards and secured them in separate cells, Minerva pondered her colleague of the past six years. It had come as quite a shock when the kind, quiet Sealing teacher had revealed to the Order that he was actually a career soldier and trainer of such. Then again, it certainly explained why Albus had chosen Iruka of all people to accompany him to rescue Harry Potter two years prior, and shed new light on the startling shift in the man's behavior during the troll incident his first Halloween at the school. In some ways, she reflected, he was reminiscent of Albus as she remembered her mentor back when he was her Transfiguration teacher.

Both men showed near-infinite patience with their students, always so caring and nurturing. They treasured the children they taught, taking comfort in their innocence after witnessing the horrors of war and in building and helping people after having taken up arms against their fellow man. Threaten those children, however, and the gentle teacher would peel back to reveal the battle-tempered warrior underneath. Perhaps this was why Albus had so readily connected with the younger man - consciously or not, he recognized that kinship of spirit.

Once the prisoners were all secured, the four Professors departed, Albus sealing up the passageway behind them. As with the three student prisoners, this group would be fed by house-elves until they were released or transferred into other custody. While they _could_ have called the Aurors in to take the men, it wasn't like the Ministry had anywhere secure to hold them. Besides, it was the middle of the night and they all had important plans for the following day that they'd want to be well-rested for.

She tried to push aside the disquiet she felt at Albus and Iruka's cryptic exchange about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and "implications".

* * *

**Omake?**

"-and that's the plan," Sirius explained.

Molly looked aghast. "Surely you can't be serious!"

His eyes widened as a look of manic, unbridled glee spread across his face-

"Don't even think about it." Hermione's cold tone cut across the moment as harshly as a straight razor.

Perhaps his canine Animagus form explained how thoroughly he'd perfected the 'hang-dog' look.

* * *

**Omake by Sniper0sniping:**

" _I told Sauske about your fangirl problem,_ " Naruto (or at least one of his Shadow Clones) said over the mirrors durring an S.E.N. meeting. " _He sends his sympathies._ " Naruto then sighed, " _apparently he has something to help._ "

Harry looked between the two.

Naurto lifted a box into view. " _He then gave me this to send to you._ " In his hands was a box with a clear top displaying a long Naruto-blond wig, a pair of colored contact lenses, and a set of false buck teeth. " _An ancient Uchiha disguise kit. Rumors are that even Madara used it._ "

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Voldie saw examples of powerful shinobi, but without context he still doesn't grasp just how utterly out of his league many of them are. Then again, he wouldn't be able to accept it if he did.
> 
> I've been planning the sequence where Iruka dealt with a group of Death Eaters sneaking through the Forbidden Forest at night for literally a couple of years as of writing this chapter. So glad to finally get it written! The Death Eaters split up because I had two ideas of how to handle Iruka's takedown of the group, and couldn't decide between them. The second group was the first idea I'd had, aiming for an almost horror-movie-style vibe, but then I got the idea to have the DEs get wise after the first few disappeared and try using Supersensory Charms to try and locate their attacker only for Iruka to blind them with a flash bomb. If Macnair lives through the war, he's going to be blinking spots out of his eyes for the rest of his life - this is the second flash bomb he's been hit with while looking straight at it in the dark.
> 
> I used "Quentin" as the first name for the Death Eater called simply "Travers" in the canon in homage to another franchise. Both Quentin Traverses are scumbags that think they're the good guys.
> 
> It was when writing this chapter that I realized that many of the scenes I've most enjoyed writing were those from perspectives other than Iruka's. This is probably for a few reasons, the biggest of which would be that the "voice" I have for Iruka is fairly bland, mostly just narration. Other characters tend to show a lot more personality in their POV segments. On top of that, the scenes done from other POVs are generally more important or thoroughly-planned, so I'm not just moving the plot along to move the plot along.
> 
> Did anybody else mentally hear Iruka's "How quaint" in James Doohan's voice?
> 
> In case you're wondering (you're not), I did in fact look up what phase the moon was in on May 9th 1997.
> 
> Before you complain, I am aware that the Fantastic Beasts films decided to have McGonagall teaching at Hogwarts when Newt Scamander was a student. While this puts her age more in line with that of Dame Maggie Smith, who played her so brilliantly on screen, it doesn't track with the black-haired witch described in the books. I've chosen to ignore that bit from Fantastic Beasts and instead say that she's closer to Hagrid's age or a bit younger, so that she either wasn't a student at the same time as Riddle or at least didn't interact with him at all if she was.
> 
> I'd been meaning to include my semi-omake for a while. It baffles me that I've never seen a fic make the Airplane! reference.


	5. Exorcise

Morning came, and Iruka rose more tired than he'd hoped to be; he'd been going over his part in the ritual with Albus (or more often Orochimaru via mirror, and wasn't _that_ a fun experience) for the past several days, and knew he'd probably need every drop of chakra he could muster. A bit of fatigue was still better though than whatever would have happened if he and the others _hadn't_ been awakened in the wee hours of the morning. As far as choosing to take the intruders on alone, he stood by that decision - it wasn't like he'd actually had to use chakra for anything but a bit of tree-sticking and speed enhancement. The day either of those became a serious drain on his reserves was the day he handed in his hitai-ate for good.

The cleansing ritual would be performed in the Room of Requirement: Very few people knew of the Room's existence, making it one of the most secure and secret locations in the castle, and its mutable nature had made setting up a suitable space much easier.

For this purpose, the Room's configuration was a fifteen-meter-wide dome with two alcoves, one of which held the entry door while the other was covered with a curtain. From his time working to prepare the ritual chamber, Iruka knew that even these alcoves would be sealed off by blocks of stone that would slide into place to create an unbroken hemisphere. Every surface was made of gleaming pure-white marble. At the exact center stood a waist-high block of stone, about two meters long by one across, its sides covered by intricate runic scripts intertwined with sealing formulae, a pattern which continued onto the floor, walls, and ceiling. Several concentric circles, diagrams, and alchemical sigils had also been drawn on the floor in chalk, with candles at key points.

It had taken months of meticulous work by Iruka, Albus, Filius, Remus, and Sirius, with contributions by Bill and Moody whenever they could be dragged in to help and the Room wasn't occupied by Malfoy. They'd had to tweak things a few times as further last-minute refinements came in, but the last three days' work had been purely occupied with a meticulous inspection of the entire design, often with a two-way mirror allowing Orochimaru to check over the seals, and the occasional correction.

Harry made a beeline for the curtained alcove, while most of the rest of those present were chivvied into marked points along a ring about halfway to the wall. They had Sirius and Remus, of course, and the other student members of S.E.N., along with Filius, Minerva, and Hagrid. Wendell and Monica Granger had been brought in, Albus somehow finding a way to get them past the castle's anti-Muggle wards, though the secrecy of this occasion meant that they'd not really gotten to see anything of their children's school aside from the Room, the Headmaster's office, and the path between the two. Dobby stood proudly in one spot, while in another Crookshanks sat calmly at the foot of a perch from which Hedwig surveyed the Room imperiously, and Fawkes circled lazily overhead. Another "position" was occupied by a stand holding the activated two-way mirror, through which Naruto watched from an office currently packed with those close to him. Everyone aside from Hedwig and Fawkes had to move around on a set of plank walkways placed to keep them from accidentally disturbing any of the countless markings drawn on the floor.

Harry emerged from the curtained-off alcove wearing only a plain white cotton robe that only came down to around his knees and elbows. His spectacles had been left behind as well, so he was squinting a bit as he tried to resolve his destination, and the makeup that usually covered the **Fūja Hōin** had been removed leaving the seal on full display. He shuffled somewhat awkwardly towards the center of the room, his nerves over the ritual to come gradually overriding his embarrassment at being the center of so much attention, particularly while wearing so little clothing.

The teen hopped up to a seat on the stone platform and laid down, closing his eyes and visibly trying not to fidget. Albus drew his wand and Vanished all of the walkways, before motioning to Iruka, who stepped to stand at Harry's left, with the headmaster on his right and Fawkes coming down to perch at his head. He tapped several of the carved runes with his wand, causing them to glow with a shimmering white light, then put his wand away.

The ritual had begun.

"For water," Dumbledore intoned formally, "the Water of Heroes." At this prompt, Iruka pulled a small glass phial from his own robes and poured its contents into a golden dish placed on the innermost circle directly behind him. Naruto had somehow, _somehow_ managed to get Takigakure to part with a few milliliters of their greatest treasure.

"For wind, the Golden Snitch and the first flight." Albus stepped over behind Fawkes to lay down the first Snitch that Harry had ever caught, alongside a toy broom recovered from the Potter home in Godric's Hollow.

"For lightning," he stepped around to the foot of the block, "yew wood, thunder-split." A gold plate received several large splinters of singed yew wood.

"For fire, the feather of a phoenix, freely given." As Albus returned to his place, carefully stepping over the marks on the floor, Fawkes pulled a feather from his own tail and held it out to the Headmaster, who reverently placed it in another dish behind his position.

"And for earth, the stones of Hogwarts, forever sheltering and nurturing those within her walls." At this, one of the runic arrays on the plinth flared to radiant life.

He placed his wand-tip to a particular rune in front of him, as Iruka began flashing through a sequence of hand-seals. "The magic of a wizard, a guardian in the light, and the chakra of a shinobi, protector from the shadows." As the Headmaster spoke this last word, Iruka completed his seals and placed the tips of his right index and middle finger to the tip of a sealing array, channeling his chakra in as Albus did the same with his magic. "The love of friends and family living calls to the love of those gone but still vigilant - **Auferes Malum, Servare Innocuum!** "

At Albus's shouted incantation, Harry's body seemed to relax into sleep as both the runic script and sealing array they were feeding power into glowed brightly, the light racing along the lines of carved runes and inked characters. Within moments, every marking in the room blazed with silver light, as the contents of the four dishes around them burst into silver flame. Albus's voice settled into a low chant in some presumably long-dead language.

With this, their part was mostly done; all that was left for Iruka was to keep up the flow of magic and chakra and put their trust in Harry.

**-――――===ͽ ᛋ ͼ===――――-**

Harry found himself on Hogwarts' Quidditch pitch, which made him glad he was clad in trainers, blue jeans, and a jumper rather than the fairly minimalist robe he was actually wearing. He was positioned about a third of the way between the two sets of goals, with another figure standing a similar distance from the opposite goals, wearing black robes. Seeing his apparent opponent start striding forward, Harry began his own cautious approach.

As he walked, keeping one eye on his counterpart, the teen looked up into the stands. The usual four sets of House banners had been replaced with just two sets that he'd never seen before: From the far end of the stands hung black banners bearing a green Dark Mark, while the rest held white banners with a red-and-gold phoenix.

Behind the far goals was a narrow slice of black speckled with silver - a group of robed and masked Death Eaters - while the rest of the seats were packed with a more colorful group. Most of the spectators were little more than vague blobs of color, even those close enough that he should have been able to see them more clearly, but a glance at the area behind him showed much more distinct features. Everyone present for the ritual was there, along with other friendly acquaintances. One entire stand was filled with mostly-unfamiliar faces, but the Leaf headbands made their origins obvious. What truly struck him, though, were those in another stand, many of whom he had last seen when their echoes had emerged from Voldemort's wand, including both of his parents who gazed down at him with love and pride in their eyes. For the moment, all of these 'spectators' were silent, the very air still in quiet anticipation with the only sound that of grass under his trainers.

The two wizards approached the center of the field, reminding Harry of how the captains of the House Quidditch teams would meet at the start of a game. Given who he expected to be facing, though, he wouldn't bet on a civil handshake or the "clean game" Madam Hooch always demanded and sometimes actually got.

Harry's expectations proved only somewhat accurate, as rather than the reptilian features of Lord Voldemort or even some version of Tom Riddle, the wizard opposite him looked like, well, _him_. He had the same bone structure inherited from James Potter, the same unruly black hair, stood the same height, bore the same scar, wore the same spectacles, but it didn't take much of a closer look to see the differences: The scar on the black-robed figure was an angry, swollen red that contrasted sharply with his too-pale skin. Where Harry's mouth was set in a grim line, his opposite wore a smug, condescending smirk. Most telling however were his eyes, not the vibrant green of Lily Potter née Evans but the luminous scarlet of Lord Voldemort. One glance into those hate-filled orbs wiped away any doubts Harry might have had about who stood opposite him.

"Well, well, well, Potter..." The face may have been Harry's but the voice was that of the teenaged Tom Riddle. "Such a tremendous undertaking to reach this point. It seems a waste, really; if you wanted to die so badly there are countless ways that would have required far less effort. Regardless, I will offer you this one chance: Kneel before me and I will make your end quick and painless and grant you the comfort of knowing that your death served a greater and more noble purpose than your life ever could."

Harry glared at the avatar of Riddle before him. "If you know about things that have happened since you were split off, then you know that the response I'd like to give you would have Hermione chastising me for my language while Luna questioned whether it was anatomically possible. In more civilized terms then, Tom, why don't you go take a long walk off a short pier?"

As close as the range was, it was only his years of training with Iruka-sensei that allowed Harry to dodge the angry orange curse thrown at his face from the very familiar holly wand that had suddenly appeared in his opponent's hand. Rather than back up to open that range, however, he instead stepped forward. Wanting a kunai, he felt cloth-wrapped steel in his hand, combining his second step with a rising slash at the Horcrux's outstretched wand hand. The crowd erupted into cheers and shouts, and the fight was on.

Riddle yanked his hand back, barely avoiding the cut, and started to quickly retreat in an attempt to turn the battle into his kind of fight. He was fast, his borrowed physique an exact match to Harry's own, but he lacked training and experience at _using_ that physique. It didn't exactly help that flowing floor-length robes, while impressive, weren't ideal for moving around in. As much as Tom tried to open the range, Harry stayed right with him.

Harry tried to draw his wand to make use of his magic, but nothing happened. He figured it must be something about the rules of this battle, perhaps that there couldn't be two copies of the same object, though that would later beg the question of how such a rule allowed the Horcrux to wear a copy of Harry's body. In the moment, it just told him that he was without access to his magic, which meant that he _had_ to keep the fight close-in and physical. If Riddle could open the range, Harry knew he probably wouldn't stand a chance.

The teen wizard kept the pressure on, throwing cuts and thrusts with his kunai mixed in with punches, kicks, and attempted grabs. His opponent frantically backpedaled, evading some strikes and blocking others with small snap-cast shields. All the while, people in the crowd called encouragement to one combatant or the other. Harry's relentless assault denied Voldemort the opportunity to use long incantations or complex wand movements, restricting him to spells that could be cast quickly and simply. Even with his repertoire of available spells restricted, however, he was still able to shoot off attacks of his own from time to time, often forcing Harry to interrupt a move in order to dodge. The two seemed almost evenly-matched, until one of Harry's slashes opened a long but shallow cut on Riddle's left hand and forearm.

" _ENOUGH!_ " The Horcrux's enraged bellow was accompanied by a magical shockwave blasting out in all directions from his body, hurling Harry back through the air. It was a solid five meters away that Harry finally returned to Earth, bouncing violently off the turf and tearing up grass and soil with the impact. After his second bounce, he managed to take control of his tumble and turned his third landing into a stable crouch, using chakra-sticking to halt his movement before he lost any more distance. His attention returned to Riddle just in time to roll sideways out of the path of a powerful curse that blew a small crater in the pitch, knocking him onto his back in the process. The small sliver of cheering from the Dark spectators was almost totally drowned out by the boos and jeers of the Light.

As he pushed himself into a roll back to his feet, Harry dimly noted a twinge of pain from his left hand, but dismissed it in favor of dodging the Killing Curse that would have hit him in the face. Voldemort laughed. "If you insist on fighting like a worthless Muggle, then you can _die_ like one!" His appropriated wand blurred into action, spewing forth a torrent of multicolored spells.

While the gap between them made attacking Riddle pretty much impossible, it wasn't all bad for Harry: Even as fast as the incoming curses traveled, he had a lot more time than before to react to them. This was cold comfort, though, since the sheer _volume_ of incoming fire made dodging a serious challenge. Harry began to dash to the side, circling around Voldemort in order to make aiming that much more difficult for him, though he still frequently had to dive under or leap over incoming curses, occasionally pausing in his run or even reversing direction to avoid spells. Sometimes he'd turn and try to close range again, but Riddle was having none of that, pushing him back with a barrage of deadly magic.

After several close calls, many of which provoked reactions from both sides of the audience, Harry barely failed to dodge a curse that cut a burning gash into the back of his right hand. The cheers from the Dark spectators stopped abruptly, however, when they noticed that Voldemort had stopped casting, looking instead at his own right hand that was bleeding from a wound identical to Harry's. Recalling the twinge he'd felt earlier, Harry snuck a quick glance down at his left hand, finding a cut like the one he'd inflicted on Riddle with his kunai.

The Horcrux's eyes narrowed. "This is _useless_ ," he hissed angrily. "If our injuries are mirrored on each other, then how am I supposed to kill you? How did Dumbledore expect his precious student to win this fight? Oh..." His angry expression morphed into a vicious smirk, "but who's to say he did, hm?"

"Yes," Riddle chuckled cruelly, "I see that I've underestimated the old meddler. Why, it's almost cunning enough to be worthy of a Slytherin!" His eyes focused on Harry. "The only way to destroy a Horcrux is to destroy its container beyond any hope of repair. He knew what you were, what your fate had to be if he wanted any hope of defeating me. Why else would he have discarded you with those worthless Muggles? He didn't need you to be happy, or healthy - he just needed you to _die_ at his direction. What better method than to subject you to a life of misery, only to swoop in and carry you off to a world of magic and wonder? How better to control you and ensure your blind loyalty than to appear as your savior?"

Harry scoffed. "Yeah, and he spent _how_ many months working himself to the bone to create this ritual?"

"Did he?" Voldemort's grin widened. "Did he really? Is this ritual _truly_ an attempt to save your life, or is it just another sham like his 'caring grandfather' persona? Like his 'benevolent elder' or 'wise teacher' masks? 'I'm sorry,' he'll say to your little friends, 'we all tried our hardest, you _saw_ how hard we tried, but I'm afraid dear Harry just couldn't be saved. The poor boy must have sacrificed himself to ensure Lord Voldemort's defeat, and we should all redouble our efforts in defense of the Light in honor of his sacrifice.' And they'll all cry and mourn and say 'There, there, Headmaster, it's all right; we know you tried.' Then he'll lead them on, leaving your cold corpse in the pile of all those he's led to their deaths in his futile attempts to thwart me."

As determined as he was, Harry still hesitated. He knew, he _knew_ that Voldemort lied as easily as he told the truth, but his words made too much sense to simply dismiss. Could it be true? Had Dumbledore been setting him up to die this whole time? Was that why he'd really brought the Philosopher's Stone into Hogwarts the same year Harry arrived? Was it why the obstacles in the third-floor corridor could be passed by some determined First-Years? Did he know about the diary, about the basilisk, and left them free rein in hopes they'd kill Harry? How hard did he _really_ fight to keep the Dementors away from Hogwarts? Was he really unable to keep a man they thought was a mass-murderer out of the castle? Was he really unaware that an _actual_ mass-murderer was already sleeping in Harry's dorm? The questions just kept slamming into him, his mind racing and bringing up piece after piece of evidence that made him wonder if the kindly old wizard had ever _really_ had Harry's best interests in mind as he fought to keep tears from his eyes.

**Λ**   
**-――――===ͽ < O > ͼ===――――-**   
**V**

Iruka was sweating hard, continuing to feed chakra into the ritual array as Albus's voice flowed into yet another repetition of his chant. In the past couple of minutes, bruises and scrapes had begun appearing all over the visible parts of Harry's body. Blood was running down both sides of the stone platform from cuts on the teen's hands.

Looking at Harry's face, he saw a tear running down his student's cheek. "Fawkes," he called out, "anything you can do, now is the time!"

The phoenix glanced at Albus, whose eyes narrowed before he nodded resolutely. Fawkes then began trilling out a song that echoed throughout the chamber and into the hearts of everyone present, somehow speaking of determination and victory without needing words. Iruka, feeling revitalized, grit his teeth and pushed more chakra into the array. "Everyone focus your thoughts on Harry, call out your support! Come on, Harry..."

**-――――===ͽ ᛋ ͼ===――――-**

Suddenly, a wall of flames roared to life along the centerline of the pitch, dividing the impromptu battleground precisely in half. Both combatants leapt back on reflex, though neither was close enough to be in any danger.

"Another pointless obstacle," Voldemort snarled, still somehow clearly audible and visible through the flames, raising his wand once more. He fired off a handful of spells, including a Killing Curse, but all were burned away the moment they hit the barrier. Harry manifested a handful of shuriken and threw them, but metal fared no better than magic against the fiery wall.

"Perhaps Dumbledore _is_ senile after all," the Horcrux sneered. "What possible purpose does _any_ of this serve? We cannot harm each other without feeling the same harm in turn, a battle neither side can win! Although- hmm... perhaps we've _both_ been going about this all wrong... We may be manifest as physical representations, but in truth this is a battle between _souls_. I don't need to kill you; I just need to _break_ you." He grinned viciously. "How fortuitous that I have such _extensive_ experience in such pursuits."

"I doubt that this pathetic trick," the fragment of Riddle gestured towards the burning barrier, "will last much longer. If it could, it would undoubtedly have been here the whole time. I need only wait, and once the flames die we can resume your lesson in _true_ power." Sure enough, the fire of the wall did seem to be dimming, its height gradually shrinking. "Just because I can't damage your body doesn't mean that I lack for options. There are oh, so many delightful ways to torment you without leaving a mark. Should I trap you in your worst memories? Or perhaps I'll show you some of _my_ memories; I'm sure you'll enjoy slaughtering your parents as much as I did - you will, after all, be living it as me. Decisions, decisions..."

"Still," Voldemort's taunts continued, "I suppose I should thank you - once I've crushed you and destroyed your soul, I'll be able to claim your body for myself, and with it all of your magic and your memories. I'll awaken, appropriately joyous and grateful for being freed of my terrible burden." His demeanor changed, suddenly, becoming a perfect mirror of Harry's own. " _He's gone!_ " he gasped in Harry's voice, " _You did it, Professor!_ " The smirk returned. "With full access to your memories, even the old meddler won't suspect a thing until it's too late. It might be a bit tedious to play the good schoolboy again, but I doubt it'll be long before I use your face and name to utterly destroy Dumbledore and his worthless Order. I wonder if any of them will realize, before the end; it would certainly be entertaining to torture your little friends to death while they beg their precious Harry to stop, that delicious mix of hurt, confusion, and betrayal in their eyes before the light fades."

Harry had long since gone beyond simple anger by this point; he'd passed through that storm and into the calm, icy realm of resolute rage. It was in this paradoxical serenity that he noticed his chakra surging far stronger than he'd ever experienced before, yet still just as controlled as usual. His mind raced, trying to figure out how this came about, before giving a mental shrug and putting it down to some property of the ritual or this vision-battlefield.

More important, he realized, was the fact that he now had more than enough chakra to actually perform ninjutsu, something that could possibly close the gap in offensive power between him and the Horcrux's avatar. There was just one problem:

Harry didn't _know_ any offensive ninjutsu.

With how little chakra his students had, Iruka-sensei hadn't ever tried to teach them anything beyond the most basic of Academy-level ninjutsu alongside control exercises. None of those three would help him much here: On an open battlefield, there wasn't really any point in changing his appearance. The only object of suitable size to Substitute with was his opponent, and living beings naturally resisted that technique because they had chakra of their own; given their identical bodies, Harry knew he didn't have the raw power to overcome that resistance, and neither did he have enough skill with the jutsu to make up the difference. A few basic **Bunshin** might draw off a couple of curses each, but at Riddle's casting speed that wouldn't even buy him five seconds' respite.

A particularly loud cheer from the stands of _"Kick his ass, dattebayo!"_ sparked Harry's memory. Hermione, curious as always, had once asked the Seventh Hokage about his signature attack. Naruto had proceeded to launch into a dramatic retelling of how he first learned the basic **Rasengan**. Under ordinary or even extraordinary circumstances, trying to recreate a jutsu purely from a verbal description would be insane, but given that everything here was only real for a very loose definition of "real"...

That, and Harry was out of options. Love may be supremely powerful, but desperation has a magic all its own at times.

Tuning out the fragmentary Dark wizard's boasts and extending his right arm, Harry loosely cupped his palm, curling up his fingers as if he was holding a grapefruit-sized orb in his hand. He channeled chakra, and was almost immediately rewarded with a visible ring of swirling whitish-blue energy hovering over his palm. When he tried to start up a second circulation, however, the first ring started to wobble and distort, losing stability and cohesion. Just as Harry was about to panic, however, he felt... _something_.

It was as if somebody was suddenly standing behind him, a warm, comforting, and strangely familiar presence reaching over his shoulder towards his **Rasengan** -in-progress. The nascent jutsu stabilized its first rotation, feeling sharply contained and controlled, and as the foreign chakra touched his own Harry somehow _knew_ that it was Naruto's.

**Λ**   
**-――――===ͽ < O > ͼ===――――-**   
**V**

In the real(-er) world, several people gasped in shock. Following their gaze, Iruka glanced into the two-way mirror to see a glowing golden figure. From the expression of surprise and confusion on the Seventh Hokage's face, the chuunin figured that Naruto had no more idea of the cause than anybody else.

Beginning a few moments later, one at a time, people all around the room would feel a strange pulling sensation start up in their chest and stomach.

**-――――===ͽ ᛋ ͼ===――――-**

Just as Harry was about to make another attempt at starting up a second direction of rotation, he felt another presence nearby, this time standing to his right, and the second rotation formed on its own, carrying the feel of Iruka-sensei's chakra. Harry's mind went to how Naruto had originally needed the assistance of his clones to carry out the complex task of spinning his chakra in numerous directions while keeping the whole mass tightly contained.

The presence to Harry's right seemed to flicker, and another rotation formed by Neville's chakra. Another flicker, and Hermione added her own contribution. Faster and faster, more and more people seemed to somehow join Harry on the pitch, each aiding him in forming the jutsu: Luna, Ginny, Dumbledore, Flitwick, McGonagall, Hagrid, WendellMonicaSiriusRemusDobbyHedwigCrookshanks...

James.

_Lily._

A swirling, humming vortex-orb of chakra hovered over Harry's hand, weightless and yet somehow hefty at the same time, carrying in it all the love and support being sent his way. Glancing up through the still-dwindling flames at his opponent, Harry saw that Riddle had stopped talking, instead watching with a wary gaze. Another look down at the **Rasengan** in his hand brought Harry to a sickening realization:

It wouldn't be enough.

As powerful an attack as it was, the **Rasengan** was still a melee attack. Once the wall of flames died down, even if Harry was standing right beside it, he'd never be able to cover enough ground to reach Voldemort before the Horcrux could incapacitate him with spells. Even now the manifestation of the soul fragment was edging back, putting more distance between itself and this strange new development. There was only one possibility that Harry could think of, a reckless long-shot move that even Naruto would probably flinch a bit at.

**/‾‾‾‾\**   
**|( ) ( )|**   
**-――――===ͽ § \\_^_/ § ͼ===――――-**   
**|||||**

The boy gazed into the ball of swirling energy he'd conjured, seemingly deep in thought. Lord Voldemort didn't know what that spell was, which meant that it made Him nervous. Not afraid, of course, no, the greatest Dark Lord in history was never afraid, but He did feel some prudent concern that this unfamiliar magic might be a problem for Him in some way.

Potter closed his eyes, took a deep breath and sighed it back out, then turned to face him. When his eyes opened, even Lord Voldemort took an involuntary step back at the steely resolve He saw. The foolish boy stepped forward, a walk that sped into a run, dashing ever-faster towards the impenetrable flaming barrier that still separated them. A chill went down Lord Voldemort's spine: Did he intend to commit suicide, to kill them both?

Extending his strange orb of energy before him, Potter roared as he charged. The sound was odd, seeming to somehow join in with the roar of the crowd of fools and weaklings cheering him on.

The orb struck the blazing wall, but instead of burning away as everything else had, it seemed to grab the barrier, stretching it like a finger pressed into a hanging curtain. As the flames licked at Potter, immolating yet not consuming him, they also seemed to be drawn into the spiraling sphere, swirling inward as the sphere's glow intensified and began to warm in color. The barrier even began to draw in at the top and sides, as if the entire thing was one giant sheet of cloth now being pulled through a small hole. Through it all, Potter kept coming, his stride never faltering even as he was engulfed in flames.

Lord Voldemort backpedaled as fast as He could, throwing every spell in His arsenal at the boy, to no avail. Spells aimed directly at or around Potter continued to burn away in the ever-tightening curtain of magical flame that surrounded him. Conjured spears and transfigured beasts fared no better. It burned through a wall of stone called up from the ground as if it wasn't there, and a poisonous corrosive fog barely had time to form before the flames and the swirling winds around that accursed sphere blew it to useless wisps. The flames wiped away both the ice and the needle-sharp stones the Dark Lord had used to try and take away Potter's footing. A stream of overpowered blasting curses smashed the ground in front of the boy to rubble, causing him to veer hard to his right to dodge around it. Even that delaying tactic soon wore thin, as the Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Bloody- _DIE_ -Already began simply running across the churned-up areas, barely slowing down but demonstrating a borderline-inhuman level of agility in doing so.

He continued backing up, trying to make the most of the ever-diminishing gap between the two combatants as He desperately tried to think of some way to slow or stop the boy, some way to ward off the increasingly worrying orb that was now glowing a fiery orange and still brightening. The only chance He could see, the only chink in Potter's armor, was the way that the flaming barrier he was still dragging along continued to shrink. If He could drag this chase out a second or two longer, it should constrict enough to expose the boy to spells once more. After that, even a simple Leg-Locker would halt his insane charge. Once Potter was helpless, he would learn in _excruciating_ detail why one should never defy a Dark Lord.

Suddenly, one of His steps back faltered as His back foot caught on something. It was then that He realized that His retreat had taken Him in among the craters and gouges left by spells He'd cast at Potter when the infuriating boy had tried circling around Him. Could it be that those evasions earlier in the brat's charge had been not caution but tactics, deliberately steering Lord Voldemort's strategic maneuvering into the torn-up part of their battlefield, hoping to force Him to stumble and halt? That thought came too late to help, however; in another moment, Potter was upon Him.

**-――――===ͽ ᛋ ͼ===――――-**

Harry was in what could debatably be called the worst agony of his life. While having his entire body set on fire wasn't _quite_ as painful as Voldemort's Cruciatus, it did have the distinct downside of knowing that he'd done this to himself. Nevertheless, he ran on, desperately trying to reach Riddle and end this fight one way or another. He pushed the pain aside somewhat in his near-absolute focus on the need to defeat this soul fragment, to protect all the people who cared about Harry and supported him and were counting on him to keep them safe from the monster hidden in his oh-so-bloody-famous scar.

The Horcrux was once more throwing spells of all sorts in Harry's direction, but he plowed forward, counting on the flames that had enveloped him to serve as a defense. Voldemort's stumble on ground torn up by his own earlier spellwork bought him the opportunity the teen needed to close the remaining gap between the two of them, and strike, his left hand lashing out to grab Riddle's right and point his wand away into the air. The fragmentary Dark Lord screamed in agony as his hand was engulfed in flames and his stolen wand burned away.

It was then that Harry noticed the last remnants of the burning barrier being pulled into the sphere, his own pain beginning to fade as the fire flowed away. Seconds later, the last of the flames had disappeared into the swirling orb, which was now glowing like a miniature sun and putting out heat to match. Voldemort had only a moment of clarity to gape in horror before, with a roar, Harry pulled him forward and shoved the blazing sphere into his chest.

Apparently Riddle hadn't screamed earlier, more like just crying out in pain and shock, because now he _really_ screamed. As the **Rasengan** drilled into his chest, he was engulfed in flames. Strangely, while the magical fire clearly hurt him, it wasn't doing any visible damage; Harry distantly noticed then that he too had been left unmarked despite having felt like he was being burned alive.

After a few moments, however, the Horcrux's visible flesh and hair began to char and crack, burning away the copy of Harry's form to reveal the pallid visage of Lord Voldemort. This too blackened and flaked away, leaving something even more horrid: It looked as if someone had taken the grotesque childlike form Riddle had inhabited before his restoration, and then flayed all the skin from its body. Harry felt his gorge rise, but pressed on, knowing his friends, his _family_ were counting on him to end this.

It didn't take long. Bare seconds after the burning **Rasengan** had first made contact, all resistance suddenly vanished as the avatar of the soul fragment burst apart into wisps of smoke, its screams spiking in volume and pitch before trailing off into silence. Harry barely had time to realize he'd won before everything around him dissolved into darkness and his grasp on consciousness slipped away.

**Λ**   
**-――――===ͽ < O > ͼ===――――-**   
**V**

In the Room of Requirement, all present were startled when Harry's scar burst open, spraying a black tar-like sludge over those performing the ritual. A black, smoky, vaguely humanoid form streamed out with an inhuman scream that seemed to echo away into the distance as its 'body' dissipated into wisps and disappeared.

Moments later, Albus Dumbledore collapsed, trickles of blood flowing from his nose, eyes, and ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Monologuing. Not even once.
> 
> I threw in the bit about Harry deliberately herding Voldemort into previously-churned-up ground to slow him down to bring a bit of strategy/trickery into Harry's win, my own infinitesimal sliver of the kind of mental battles that characterized many of the best fights in Naruto (especially early in the series).


	6. Siege

"To be honest, it's a miracle he's still alive. Any lesser wizard would likely have died before you could even get them to me."

Madam Pomfrey's assessment of the Headmaster's condition was not good news. Hagrid and Neville had carried Albus and Harry respectively to the Hospital Wing immediately after the ritual's conclusion, with Iruka out in front with his Staff Map making sure the path was clear of obstacles and witnesses and Minerva accompanying the quartet to deal with any he missed. Dumbledore had been seen to first, on the principle that bleeding from the eyes was worse than from the hands: His entire body had been ravaged as if by poison or Dark magic, but with no discernable cause other than the ritual itself. Both he and Harry were also suffering from severe exhaustion both physical and magical, but Harry's youth and lesser injuries meant that he was already on the mend whereas Albus's prognosis was uncertain at best. Both wizards - young and old - were now resting, having been healed as much as the school's Medi-Witch could manage.

"Filius," Iruka tiredly took command of the situation from the bed where he too was resting, though despite spending a lot of chakra he'd been able to make it here under his own power, "gather anyone that could help in fixing a damaged Vanishing Cabinet, as long as we can trust them. We need it fixed as soon as possible." The Charms teacher nodded and immediately began sending off Patronus messengers.

"Minerva, talk to the other Professors, along with the Head Boy and Girl and the Prefects, at least those that are trustworthy. Make sure they're ready to gather or evacuate the children at a moment's notice."

"Hagrid, can you get in contact with the centaurs? Let them know that there might be an attack involving their territory soon, and ask if they'd be willing to help defend the castle. After that make whatever preparations you can with the creatures on the grounds - I don't know if you can direct the thestrals, hippogriffs, and others to do anything to help, but do what you can."

"Sirius, contact Madam Bones and have her start gathering whatever forces she can muster and bring them here. Remus, call up the Order and our allies."

"You make it sound as though we're about to be attacked," Madam Pomfrey commented worriedly.

"That's because I suspect we will be," Iruka replied grimly, "and soon. There was already an attempt by Death Eaters to sneak into the castle last night; we stopped them, but it's likely that with the subtle approach thwarted they'll try something more direct. You should start preparing however you can to receive casualties. Call in help and supplies from Saint Mungo's if you can, and see if you and Professor Snape can get some of the better brewers in the castle to start producing whatever healing potions can be made quickly."

"Also," he continued, "someone tell Professor Snape about the situation, and that he may not want to answer next time he's called. If we're lucky, this will turn out to be a false alarm; if we're _really_ lucky, Albus will be back on his feet soon and taking charge."

"I just don't think we're going to be that lucky."

**Λ**   
**-――――===ͽ < O > ͼ===――――-**   
**V**

Even resting in the Hospital Wing, Iruka could feel the tension in the air as the castle's inhabitants prepared for battle. Even as he watched, a number of witches and wizards in green Healer's robes were bustling about, having the house-elves remove most of the comfortable beds and other furniture to make room for rows of folding cots and large racks of potions and other medical supplies. Only three beds remained, two of which were occupied; Iruka was already recovered enough that he volunteered to move to a chair between Harry's and Albus's beds in order to make more room.

Harry woke after about an hour and a half, squinting blearily around until Iruka handed him his glasses. "Thanks," the teen said, glancing around before freezing in shock when he noticed his neighbor. "What happened?!" he whisper-shouted, mindful of his fellow patient despite his surprise.

"We're not exactly sure;" the chuunin responded quietly with a half-shrug, "he collapsed just after the ritual completed, with damage Madam Pomfrey couldn't identify the source of. Best guess is that it was some kind of backlash, either from the soul fragment fighting harder than expected or because there was some kind of problem with the ritual itself. Hopefully he'll have some idea when he wakes up..."

"You mean _if_ he wakes up," Harry observed, prompting a grim nod from his teacher.

"Don't even _think_ about trying to blame yourself for this," Iruka said sharply, "unless you want another tag-team lecture?"

Harry winced. Hermione, Luna, and Ginny had managed to develop a frankly scary level of teamwork when it came to lecturing the boys over foolish behavior. "I'm good," he squeaked.

**Λ**   
**-――――===ͽ < O > ͼ===――――-**   
**V**

Surprisingly, Albus woke up that evening shortly after dinner. It was another half hour of scans, questions, potions, and other tending by Madam Pomfrey (this area of the Hospital Wing had been sectioned off to hopefully at least delay word getting out about the Headmaster's infirmity) before the three wizards were able to converse.

"I apologize for frightening everyone," Albus said with a weak smile, looking every one of his one-hundred and fourteen years, "but unfortunately we had run out of time to further refine the ritual. As I was leading it, I was the first to sense not only that there would be a price to be paid for it to succeed, but something of the magnitude of that price. My decisions, my actions and inactions, they've cost so much from so many people, all while I remained largely untouched in my ivory tower. I found that I could not demand this sacrifice from another person, especially under conditions where I could neither ask their consent nor give them warning. This one time, at least, I chose to take the burden entirely upon myself."

Given the Headmaster's fragile state, Iruka held back his comments on how Dumbledore should have disclosed the possibility of such a toll being taken, particularly since if one or more of the participants had chosen to pay the price themselves the Order would not now be without their greatest asset just as a final confrontation looked to be looming. Instead, he filled the elder wizard in on the steps he'd taken and the status of the castle's preparations.

"The entire Order is here at this point, along with most of the Aurors and Hit-Wizards including cadets and foreign hires. We've even got other people coming in, witches and wizards from all walks of life who've heard about the muster by word of mouth - we're doing our best to check for infiltrators or the like, and restricting who can access what to keep any that slip through from causing too much damage. A lot of parents have either joined our guard forces or pulled their children out to take home. We've held off on evacuating the children and other noncombatants for now out of fear that if we sent them less secure they might be targeted as hostages."

"As much as I dislike keeping all our eggs in one basket, I favor it over being forced to choose between surrender and the deaths of children," the Headmaster agreed.

Iruka nodded. "You've already heard the amount of activity outside the privacy screens - hopefully it'll be adequate to handle the casualties from any action. Filius estimates that the Cabinet should be operational by morning, though he obviously can't give any more specific time. Neville also had the bright idea of asking the Room of Requirement for somewhere safe for the children to shelter and evacuate from; it gave him a large chamber with a passage leading out to behind a painting upstairs in the Hog's Head of all places."

"Excellent," Albus smiled, "the proprietor of that establishment can be relied upon to get the children to safety should the need arise."

The chuunin gave his employer a doubtful look but continued on. "A lot of people have been raising whatever temporary wards they can to add to the castle's protections, and Neville's now helping Pomona along with some other upper-year Herbology talents in placing some of the less friendly varieties of plant life on approaches to the castle. They're also helping new arrivals through the resultant gauntlet. Sirius and Remus have enlisted Peeves, at _Minerva's_ suggestion of all people, and supplied him with some of the latest creations from the Weasley twins' shop. I made sure they kept a record of exactly what they gave him in hopes of reclaiming any unused product later - some of those items are seriously dangerous, and I frankly don't trust him to understand that they're not appropriate for use on students-"

At this point the privacy curtains were yanked aside as a frantic Severus Snape barged in. "He's calling," the black-clad Professor stated without any preamble. "I had to Stun Draco to spare him the pain."

Albus frowned. "So Voldemort is gathering his followers. I do not believe that it would be wise to attend this call, Severus."

"I already knew that," the Potions Master snapped, "but if he's calling now, it means he's _coming_."

"Alert Minerva and Amelia," the Headmaster sighed resignedly. "Tell them to expect all of the forces Lord Voldemort can muster. One way or another, it seems, this war will end tonight."

**Λ**   
**-――――===ͽ < O > ͼ===――――-**   
**V**

With Snape's warning the preparations sped up in a surge of frantic desperation. Minerva cast a spell that animated every statue and suit of armor in the entire castle under her command. "I've always wanted to cast that spell," she admitted wistfully, "I just never wanted a situation where it was necessary."

The students, with the exception of S.E.N. and some among those already of-age, had already begun evacuating via the Room of Requirement. One Sixth-Year Hufflepuff boy had been placed in a body-bind by one of the Aurors overseeing the evacuation after he'd started shoving First-Years aside in his rush to leave. He'd be freed and allowed to flee only after the rest of the evacuees had gone.

Wendell and Monica Granger had, with help from the school's elves, found a long-forgotten armory in one of the disused parts of the castle. Both now wore belts bearing a sword and dagger each, but they'd also enlisted Septima Vector along with a few elves to help them set up a still-functioning ballista on the Astronomy Tower. "I'm not going to sit back and wait while my daughter fights on the front lines," Monica said sharply, "but since we can't exactly stop her and we'd just get ourselves killed trying to join her, we have to help from here."

Iruka had made his way to the Great Hall, from which the castle's defense was presently being organized. He'd contributed a bit to the planning, as had Kakashi and Shikamaru via mirror, though it mostly boiled down to sternly reminding everyone that a castle is by design a fantastic defensive position and they should make the best use of that. He also stressed the fact that they were basically fighting a delaying action, trying to buy time for the group working to repair the Vanishing Cabinet and start bringing through reinforcements. Naruto had already begun organizing squads of magic-briefed and English-speaking shinobi for deployment the moment the way through was open, including a sizable number of medics. There were presumably a large number of ANBU among this force, but to avoid confusion (and friendly-fire incidents) they'd be forgoing the black hooded robes and white animal masks while in Britain.

Sirius and Remus had taken charge of blocking off the passages onto the grounds, collapsing the tunnels to Honeydukes and the Shrieking Shack. The latter passage was further secured by blasting away the knot that would calm the Whomping Willow, leaving a nasty surprise for anyone able to make it past the collapse, while the statue of the humpbacked witch would have a dozen wands guarding it with instructions to curse anything that tried to come out.

Fred and George Weasley had focused their efforts on the passages inside the school, rigging some (but not all) of them with traps ranging from humiliating and inconvenient all the way up to nastily lethal. They did keep careful track of which passages were so trapped, passing this information along to those in charge of planning and organization. Should the Death Eaters breach the school, they'd have to either stick to the normal corridors and staircases or chance running into the fruits of the twins' twisted creativity, while the defenders would be able to move more freely by using those passages and shortcuts they knew to be safe.

It was a bit over an hour after Snape's warning that a familiar high, cold voice echoed throughout the castle:

"I know that you are preparing to fight. Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood. Give me Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore, Iruka Umino, and the Vanishing Cabinet, and none shall be harmed. Give me what I ask, and I shall leave the school untouched. Give them to me, and you will be rewarded. You have thirty minutes."

Screams echoed through the school, and many of the would-be defenders surrendered to panic before the first spell had even been cast. More than one fled to join the evacuees, and in several places fights broke out as someone tried to fulfill Voldemort's demands and had to be subdued. Soon enough however Kingsley, Amelia, and Minerva had shouted many of the panicking witches and wizards into a rough semblance of order and begun getting people into position.

Iruka himself was placed at a First-Floor window overlooking the main approach to the castle, alongside S.E.N. and most of their families. Fred and George weren't present, being part of the group of current and former Quidditch players waiting with the best brooms that could be found (including, ironically enough, the seven Nimbus 2001s purchased by Lucius Malfoy) to join Hagrid's hippogriffs and thestrals in providing air cover. Iruka's group (he had been given nominal command) was stationed where they were in consideration of the prophecy - their position could give them quick access to the ground floor of the castle in case Harry needed to actively move out to confront Voldemort.

As the half-hour mark approached, Iruka felt an all-too-familiar chill that went beyond the physical. "Dementors!" he shouted, "Anyone that can cast a Patronus, do it!" He felt a bit of pride in seeing his five students be the first to respond, their silvery guardians racing off onto the grounds, soon joined by those of the other Patronus-capable members of their group. As the portraits and ghosts carried the call to other defenders, soon the Dementors' chill was pushed back along with the creatures themselves, which started to spread out along the perimeter of the grounds, spreading the Patronus guardians in turn.

With the Dementors neutralized at least for the time being, the next threat came lumbering through the smashed outer gates in the form of trolls and giants. A smattering of spells from the towers and battlements did almost nothing, but a ballista bolt caught a troll near the middle of the group in the abdomen; the creature collapsed with a pained bellow, briefly distracting its fellows as they looked at their wounded comrade in bewilderment. At some signal Iruka couldn't hear or see, the giants began to fan out into a ragged line abreast, the trolls spreading ahead and behind them. A second bolt shot out, but with the targets no longer in a tight grouping it failed to hit anything but the ground.

The giants resumed their advance, only to come under attack from above: Thestrals and hippogriffs began diving at the giants, lashing out with their beaks, claws, and hooves whenever they got close enough. This distracted the giants as they tried to swat the equine creatures out of the air, though the trolls continued largely unhindered. Black-robed figures rose into the air, flying up on the attack, but not long after they got close enough to start hurling curses in defense of the giants they came under attack in turn by defenders on brooms. Riders on both sides soon began falling from the sky, plummeting to their deaths; they were all too high for even wizards to survive.

A third bolt struck one of the giants in the shoulder and caused him to clutch his wound in pain, which in turn left his face unguarded and cost him an eye to a hippogriff's talon. He stumbled back, roaring in rage and agony, not down but definitely not fighting at the moment. The defenders in the castle began focusing their spells on the nearer and less durable trolls, and the increasing quantity and accuracy of spellfire began to tell against the creatures.

Another giant stumbled, a bolt buried deeply into the meat of his thigh; the reload and accuracy both seemed to be improving substantially as those operating the old siege weapon got some experience with it. At this point at least half the giants the Death Eaters had brought were either wounded or starting to hesitate as the defenders proved able to cause real harm to their kind. This was apparently enough to prompt the mass of wizards behind them to begin moving forward, presumably urging the giants on rather insistently if the curses shot towards the stragglers were any indication.

Using magic to try and drive the giants back into the battle proved to be something of a mistake, as the first giant wounded and three of those who had been hesitating promptly turned on the wizards that had cursed them (and every other wizard near said targets), flailing with arms, feet, or clubs into the mass of small, fragile human magic-users. Bodies were sent flying, and even at this distance Iruka could see that some were bent in places and ways the human body was definitely not designed to bend. The response was almost immediate, as a volley of distinctive green curses struck all four rebellious giants, who fell in what their size made look like slow-motion. At this sight, most of the remaining giants again began to press forward, though a few broke and fled, with a couple even escaping alive despite the Killing Curses hurled in their direction.

As the wizards came up closer to the giants, some began to add their own curses to those of their broom-riding fellows in trying to fend off the flying defenders, but the distance made hitting such fast-moving targets more a matter of luck than one of accuracy. Another giant collapsed, hands at her throat where a lucky shot from the ballista had inflicted a mortal wound. Spellfire along the edges of the mass of wizards showed that the plant-based defenses were at least inconveniencing the attackers, though it was too far to tell if they were inflicting any casualties.

Meanwhile, near the main doors of the castle, the trolls had encountered further opposition in the form of some of the statues and armors previously animated by Minerva; the rest had been stationed around the castle in groups at other possible points of entry. It rarely took more than one or two blows from a troll's club to down one of the defenders, but many of them bore weapons that were entirely capable of inflicting serious damage in turn, and the statues that weren't so armed were mostly focusing on grappling. Even a troll's strength wasn't up to moving freely with a quarter-ton of angry rock trying to throttle it or break its limbs. Combined with the punishment dealt out by the defenders on the battlements, the trolls were now suffering heavy losses. The animated defenders were as well, but they could probably be put right with enough repairing spells. Even so, the trolls were still aiding the other attackers by occupying a substantial amount of defensive fire, tripping traps, and destroying the statues and armors.

Iruka and those with him had by this point started throwing spells and blades at the attacking forces, mostly focusing on the giants or the wizards behind them as the trolls had largely gotten too close to the wall for them to target without leaning out the windows and exposing themselves too much to return-fire. The chuunin himself was sticking to kunai and shuriken for now, knowing that his relatively meager magical skills wouldn't amount to much against these targets. Unfortunately, the range was still too great for his blades to have much penetrating power, though he'd managed to at least annoy the giants somewhat through the use of flash bombs and explosive tags. Anything that kept those spell-resistant behemoths at a distance for longer bought time for the ballista and the more powerful casters on the defense to make a difference.

Overhead the aerial battle continued, though after the initial clashes both sides were being much more cautious. A pair of defenders peeled away briefly before returning to their formation, and a few moments later chaos erupted among the attacking ground forces in the form of what were recognizably WWW-brand fireworks. Unlike the ones available in the twins' shop, however, these didn't seem to operate at safely cool temperatures judging by the number of robed figures that were now on fire. With the attackers thoroughly distracted and disorganized, Iruka and a few other de-facto unit commanders directed their groups' spellfire at the attacking witches and wizards.

The fireworks only lasted about half a minute, and after the noise from them died off Voldemort's magically-amplified voice boomed over the battlefield: " **Enough of this cowardice! Charge the castle, smash open the gates, and crush these mudbloods and blood-traitors!** " There was a momentary pause, before the attacking forces surged forward. This drew the defenders' fire away from the trolls, but they were still occupied with the statuary, being too dim-witted to remember their actual objectives or orders when there were targets to smash.

Between the defenders' increasing desperation and the sheer volume of fire only two of the giants actually made it to the front doors, which they promptly began working to bash in. Thanks to the ancient spells laid when the doors were first installed and the far more recent additions by the defenders, the iron-banded wood was only marginally less durable than the surrounding stonework, but that just meant that it would take the giants a bit of time to break through.

While the giants were busily swinging their clubs against the doors the wizards around them began trading fire with the defenders, spreading out along the walls in search of targets, though some also ended up embroiled in the trolls' battle, blasting aside animated statues or frantically shielding against sword-wielding suits of armor. Small groups broke off, keeping their distance as they warily circled around towards the castle's other doors; Iruka assumed they were meant to try and slip in a back way and/or keep the defenders from sallying forth or escaping.

At this range, Iruka's kunai and shuriken were inflicting serious damage, at least on the human attackers, but as on previous occasions the Dark wizards quickly adapted by using simple shield spells to block them. Narrowing his eyes, he took a few seconds to prep something he'd been thinking about since the night of the graveyard incident, then hurled several handfuls of kunai towards one of the more aggressive clumps of attackers. Only one blade actually caught flesh, sinking into the foot of someone who'd positioned their shield just a little too high, while the rest either sailed past the group, landed short, or bounced off their shields.

One of the shielding wizards laughed. "Pathetic!" he shouted, "You really think your Muggle knives can-"

He'd never get to finish his taunt, as Iruka had brought his hand up into a half-ram seal and flared his chakra, detonating the explosive tags attached to every one of the kunai he'd just thrown. The forward facing shields _might_ have been able to hold against the blasts from the deflected and short throws, but they offered no protection whatsoever from the long throws, leaving the group of attacking wizards caught between two sets of explosive shockwaves. When the smoke cleared only a few were still moving feebly, but Iruka knew that without immediate and major healing they'd soon join their fellows.

Given the fact that Death Eaters and their supporters weren't exactly known for their altruism, Iruka doubted there were more than a handful of trained healers or medics in their entire force. Even if they didn't know it yet, these men were already dead.

Iruka was forced to duck back, sharp fragments of stone from the window frame grazing his cheek and lip, as other attackers retaliated for his little stunt. He could feel blood start to trickle down his face, but knew the cuts were too minor to worry about.

The defensive spellfire started to taper off as more and more defenders were either hit or forced to keep their heads down by return-fire, and with the giants so close to the castle wall the ballista couldn't bear on them any more. Both sides were close enough together that air support was no longer much help to either of them, so most of the broom-riders had landed and dismounted to join their respective comrades on the ground, though a few remained circling warily on guard outside the range of enemy spells.

A loud CRACK accompanied the boom of one of the giants' club-strikes, announcing that the front doors were beginning to surrender under the sustained assault. This prompted a surge of renewed fire from the defenders, desperation driving them from cover to try and keep the Dark forces at bay, but it was too little, too late. The sound of the doors shattering echoed throughout the castle, soon followed by the roar of men and trolls charging forward and the shouts and screams of combat.

The Battle For Hogwarts had begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because it would bog the story down to list out everyone in the force working with Iruka: Arthur, Molly, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Ron, Ginny, Sirius, Remus, Harry, Hermione, Augusta, Neville, Xeno, Pandora, Luna, and Tonks


	7. Storm

The defenders' battle plan was by necessity relatively simple; they hadn't had much time to truly flesh it out, and they didn't have enough trained, disciplined troops to effect something complex anyway. They'd divided the battle into two major phases:

Phase one was the initial defense. Their goal in this phase was to keep the attackers outside the castle while bleeding and weakening them as much as possible. From what Iruka had seen, this phase had gone about as well as they could have reasonably expected; as much as they'd hoped the defenses would hold, they knew it probably wouldn't be that easy. Still, most of the giants and trolls were neutralized, and the attacking wizards had definitely taken some substantial losses. Most forces would have broken and retreated or even routed from the damage the defenders had inflicted, but between fanaticism and fear of Voldemort they'd pressed on.

Now, with the doors breached, they were entering phase two - the fighting retreat. One of the defenders' goals in this battle was to draw Voldemort out so that he could be captured or killed, but they knew he was enough of a coward that he'd probably only take the field in person under one of two conditions: Either he was so confident in his victory that he wanted to take part and show off, or he was so desperate to pull out a win that he took direct action. An unbreakable defense during phase one could have brought about the second condition, but at this point that no longer looked particularly doable. Thus, they had to at least appear to be losing, let him think all was going well and that he could safely make an appearance.

In this phase the plan was to fall back in an orderly fashion, holding ground when and where possible but allowing the attackers to push the defense back if things got too hot, all the while causing as much damage as possible while husbanding their strength. It was more or less trading ground for lives, or more accurately making the attackers trade lives for ground. The defenders didn't want to pull back any faster than they were forced to, though, since the cabinet repair crew continued to work full-tilt, desperately trying to open a path between worlds in time for it to be of some use.

The spread-out attackers rushed to gather back together to join the push through the now-shattered doors, with those groups that were too hasty to bother guarding their backs and flanks taking extra losses from the continued fire of the defenders. As defenders at the windows ran out of targets in their field of fire, most of them began to fall back to join the main defensive force, though some left a few of their people at whatever window or vantage they'd been using just in case.

None of Iruka's group remained behind as they headed for the Entrance Hall - they were all family, in one way or another, and they were going to stick together. The chuunin noticed the shutters of the windows they'd been occupying slam closed behind them, and the moving staircases seeming to actively funnel defenders toward the fighting. He could only assume that this was Albus's doing, wielding his control over the castle as its Headmaster so that even if he couldn't fight directly he was still doing his utmost to protect the good people of Wizarding Britain.

Rather than gathering their full strength for a concentrated push, the attackers had rushed in with those forces they had on hand as soon as the way was opened for them. That was... well, it wasn't a smart tactical move. The overeager mob that surged through had run into a virtual wall of incoming hexes as the defenders, who were spread across every exit from the Entrance Hall, were able to concentrate their spellfire on the much smaller area of the castle's front doorway. This in turn piled a lot of dead or incapacitated wizards right in that choke point, further throttling the flow of attackers.

With that over-aggressive initial push stymied, the attackers pulled back, trading fire with the defenders as the giants went back to pounding against the castle in an attempt to enlarge the entrance. It was during this lull that Iruka and the others arrived at the top of the staircase leading up to the First Floor from the Entrance Hall. They took whatever cover they could find, preparing to act as a second line throwing spells over the heads of the main defensive line.

The stalemate held for a minute or two before a volley of spells - Banishing Charms, blasting spells, and the like - sleeted in through the doorway, aimed not at the defenders but at the fallen attackers. While some of those unfortunate wizards might have survived the engagement that felled them, now they were all quite definitely dead. Iruka idly wondered whether more of that particular group had died to the defenders or to friendly fire. Regardless, even here on the front lines where fighting was expected to be heaviest and nastiest only a fraction of those present were battle-hardened enough to keep their equilibrium when unexpectedly showered in human remains. Dozens of screams echoed from the Entrance Hall as many of the defenders were thrown into a panic, frantically trying to cleanse themselves of the blood and gore, or simply trying (and in some cases failing) to avoid emptying their stomachs.

With a substantial portion of the defenders briefly but thoroughly distracted and their morale having taken a massive hit, the Death Eaters made their second push. A half-dozen of the surviving trolls were first through the door, followed by a tide of black-robed witches and wizards. The trolls did exactly what they were presumably brought to do, and absorbed at least two-thirds of the frantic spellfire by the defenders as they charged wildly towards whichever group looked like the best target to them.

Between the shock from the brutal friendly-fire incident and the sudden assault by the trolls and Dark wizards, the defenders' lines simply couldn't hold. They fell back down whichever paths they'd been guarding, ceding the Entrance Hall to the attacking forces. Some of the groups managed to retreat in at least a semblance of good order - particularly those guarding the main staircase who'd been among the most capable fighters present - while the group guarding the right-hand corridor simply broke and routed, two trolls eagerly chasing after them.

Iruka and those with him provided covering fire to the retreat up the stairs, pulling back to this path's first defensive fallback point in the process. Their role in the battle plan was clear: Help where they could, but avoid the front lines for as long as possible unless they had an opportunity to deal with Voldemort or his snake.

Each of the major routes inward from the Entrance Hall had one or more fallback points, relatively defensible spots where groups of defenders had been stationed to either bolster retreating allies or act as a second line of defense in case any attackers got past the first line. This particular location was at the entrance to the largest of the corridors off the First Floor landing; coming up the stairs would provide some cover to the attackers, but it also limited the number of wands they could bring to bear on the defenders, who were under no such restriction. Also, people tend to be reluctant to stick their head up when they're likely to get it promptly blown off.

Covering fire from Iruka's group helped keep the attackers from pressing their advantage as the defenders retreated up the staircase, but Iruka sent his students and their families back to the fallback point once their allies had reached the top of the stairs. He remained behind briefly, using a quick C-Rank fire jutsu to discourage pursuit long enough for the second defensive line to settle before quickly rejoining his students. Judging by the screams, at least a couple of the attackers had been more than just discouraged, but that was more of a bonus than the goal; Iruka had long felt that fire ninjutsu's greatest strength wasn't in direct offense as some might think, but rather in battlefield control and manipulating an enemy's actions. Fire was flashy, drew attention like few other things could, blocked visibility, and could play on people's instinctive fear of being burned to cause them to flinch back.

The attackers coming up the stairs were already a bit hesitant after being immolated (even if most had probably managed to protect themselves with shield spells or Flame-Freezing Charms) and didn't have any trolls accompanying them. Fighting at this fallback point thus quickly settled into a bit of a stalemate, with the attackers and defenders both trying various methods to strike at each other without having to advance and expose themselves but finding little success.

With this position stable and secure at present, Iruka pulled his group back. "Is everyone still all right?" He got a round of affirmative responses, with only some minor scrapes and bruises thus far, though Augusta Longbottom piped up.

"As much as I'd prefer to keep fighting alongside my grandson," the elderly witch said, "I'm afraid I'm not quite as young as I used to be, and if we're to be running about the castle I'll just slow the rest of you down."

Iruka nodded. "In that case, since it looks like the wounded are already being sent back to the Hospital Wing, why don't you escort them back and guard the Healers and their patients? It'd be less running around but you'd still be able to contribute." He'd previously noticed that she was definitely no slouch as a magical combatant, so it made good sense to add such a strong fighter to the defense of a vital location filled with vulnerable targets. She agreed, and went to help with the transport of the injured defenders.

"Okay," the chuunin said, "They should be able to hold here without us, so it's time to go somewhere we can do more good. Those trolls running amok down on the Ground Floor need to be dealt with."

They hustled down the corridor, using one of the non-trapped passages to get down to the Ground Floor and head towards where they could easily hear (and smell) the two trolls battling the second fallback point for this path. When they arrived, one of the trolls was busily smashing its way through some transfigured dogs that had occupied its attention while the other was simply ignoring the ersatz animals and stomping its way towards the defenders who were even now desperately trying and failing to halt the spell-resistant beast.

"Focus fire on the one with the dogs!" Iruka shouted. While his students and their families obeyed his order, he dashed towards the other troll. Drawing a kunai, he channeled fire chakra into it; being ordinary steel, it didn't take the chakra flow nearly as easily as a blade made for the purpose and would definitely be ruined after this, but it did still heat the edge and boost the small weapon's damage potential. He started with a slash at the tendons on the backs of the troll's legs, his fire-infused blade cutting through them like a hot knife through troll.

The troll roared in a combination of shock, pain, and rage as it toppled forward, its legs no longer able to bear its weight. As it tried to use its arms to right itself in the world's ugliest push-up, the chuunin took advantage of the lack of flailing to leap onto its back and cut the tendons in its elbows as well, leaving it with no functioning limbs. With all the killing he'd already done and likely would be doing tonight, it was nice to be able to spare even a troll's life.

Unfortunately for the other troll, non-lethal incapacitation wasn't in the cards. With twice the wands and half the targets, it was already in a bad way by the time Iruka turned. He threw the kunai for the gap between two ribs, and the effects of his fire chakra lingered just long enough to help the blade bury itself deep enough to pierce the creature's heart and hasten its demise.

Now that the immediate threat was dealt with, Iruka called his group in to bolster this defensive position and help with their casualties. Only a couple of the witches and wizards that had retreated here were unhurt, though many were walking wounded and at least somewhat able to fight. Others, though... One Auror was already so far gone that all the chuunin could do for him was to apply a specialized genjutsu to block his pain and ease his passing.

The overall assessment wasn't good. Even with the healthiest of the front-line defenders added in, the people manning this fallback were badly under-strength. While the Death Eaters hadn't sent any wizards this way yet, relying on the trolls to do the damage for them, once they did it wouldn't be long before these defenders were dislodged. The lack of high-priority targets or defensible locations in this part of the castle meant that there wasn't another position to fall back to, so they'd basically have to cede this area to enemy control. It also didn't help that after such a horrific rout, morale amongst this group was extremely low, and even the felling of the two trolls didn't help much.

"I think you all need to pull back to the First Floor," he suggested, having to raise his voice a bit to be heard clearly over the moans of the stricken troll. "The wounded need healing, and there aren't enough people to get them all to the Hospital Wing without leaving this position untenable."

"We were always going to have to retreat sooner or later," an older wizard nodded. "Better to do it now in good order than wait until we've been hit again and have to dodge curses while we go."

They helped the position's defenders organize their move and escorted them to the passage they'd taken down from the First Floor, though Iruka stayed behind briefly to leave a few strategically-placed explosive tags on proximity triggers. Just because they couldn't hold that position didn't mean they couldn't still make the attackers pay to take it, after all.

With no real idea of what was going on in the larger engagement, Iruka and his group ended up accompanying the injured most of the way to the Hospital Wing. They left the still-battle-ready people with the large group defending and interdicting the Grand Staircase from the First Floor landing and broke off from the wounded to stop by the nearby classroom occupied by Rufus Scrimgeour and several others. This room was being used as the first of a series of forward command posts meant to organize efforts on the front lines.

The command staff stood around a Staff Map that'd been expanded to cover a large desk. Unfortunately, while it still functioned as a detailed map of the castle and its many secret passages, the function that tracked and identified people seemed to be less than entirely functional: Dots were constantly winking in and out all over the map, with many of the names either absent or nothing more than an illegible scribble. Based on how many people were in the castle at the moment, at most a tenth of them were being tracked at any given time. Iruka could only guess that whatever Voldemort and his forces had done to breach the outer defenses had damaged or disrupted the wards.

"What's the situation?" the chuunin asked.

The Head Auror grimaced. "Better than it could be, but not very good. Once the bastards pushed us out of the Entrance Hall, they pretty much swept the Ground Floor. I saw a lot of the right-hand-corridor group passing by wounded as you came in, so I can only assume they've had to pull back entirely. A couple of other groups are still working a fighting retreat, harassing the Death Eaters as they can, but most of the Ground Floor belongs to them now along with the dungeons, the cellars, and the kitchens. We no longer have access to any of the usual exits from the castle, so if it weren't for that miracle escape route Frank and Alice's lad found we'd be trapped."

Iruka nodded. "So where do you need us?"

"The forces guarding the Astronomy Tower stairs have been hit hard..."

**Λ**   
**-――――===ͽ < O > ͼ===――――-**   
**V**

The next two hours or so were the sort of boredom-randomly-interspersed-with-hectic-terror that would be painfully familiar to combat veterans worlds-wide. They'd move to reinforce whichever defensive position was most in jeopardy at the time, help fend off a couple of attacks there, and then be called off to another trouble spot. Fred and George had rejoined them by this point, and had used up the last of their Portable Super-Swamps and the few prank-level Portable Swamps they'd brought to render several choke-points completely impassable on foot. Most of the defenders from those spots had been reassigned elsewhere, with only small forces left behind to deal with broom-riders or attempts to bridge the Swamps.

About forty minutes after the retreat from the Entrance Hall, Iruka received a message via portrait that Hagrid and Snape had killed Voldemort's snake when it attempted to assassinate the former double agent. Hagrid was now among the wounded, having been bitten repeatedly while physically restraining the magically-enhanced reptile long enough for Snape to put his knowledge of Dark magic to productive use.

Outside the castle, the two surviving giants had made some attempts to attack those defenders still outside on the ramparts, but were distracted by bow-wielding centaurs accompanied by a smaller giant that presumably knew Hagrid, at least if his bellow of "HAGGER!" was any indication. From what Iruka had seen and heard, one of the two attacking giants had been felled and the other driven off (though the latter might also have just been chasing the centaurs that'd been peppering it with arrows, the second- and third-hand reports were unclear).

Now, Iruka and the leaders of several other groups were gathered in the command center along with the top commanders of the castle's forces. "They're pressing too hard towards the Hospital Wing," Bones stated urgently, "probably trying to cut us off from being able to treat our wounded; that, or they're just looking to murder a lot of helpless people in their beds. On the one hand we can't let that happen, but on the other this may give us an opportunity to hit back a bit. Given how much of their force has been concentrated on that offensive, they must be pulling people from their other pushes. If we can hit their weakened positions hard enough, we should be able to at least do some real damage and cost them some troops. Best case, we start retaking some of the ground we've lost, but holding that ground might be tricky."

"What about pushing a force through to hit them in their flanks and rear?" Iruka suggested. "Have the unit stay mobile and focus on hit-and-fade attacks to bleed the enemy?"

"That'd just be asking to get surrounded and wiped out by overwhelming numbers," Scrimgeour growled.

"Can they free up enough fighters for that?" the chuunin asked in return. "After all, if they pull too many people from the front lines, they'd pretty much be asking for us to overrun their forward positions. Maybe whoever we send out could just dip out past our lines briefly, coming up behind another group of attackers to catch them in a hammer-and-anvil situation, wipe them out, and step back into friendly territory to rest and recover."

"It'd be chancy," Moody grumbled thoughtfully, "especially since nobody's spotted the Dark Bastard yet and we haven't had any reports of the Lestrange bitch in a while. Most of their other top fighters are tied up in the push on the Hospital Wing, though, so it's basically just those two wildcards to worry about."

"It's the best plan we have," Bones stated, "unless we want to just keep on as we have until they break through and cut off the Hospital Wing, maybe even break our lines completely. I say we do it."

About two thirds of those present agreed, and after some discussion Iruka was tasked with using his mobile force for the first of these "stitching attacks" as one wizard dubbed them.

Iruka returned to his "troops" where they were resting up after the most recent skirmish, taking in their worn appearance after hours of intermittent fighting and running: The side of Pandora Lovegood's head was swathed in red-tinged bandages courtesy of a piece of falling masonry, and Sirius's entire left arm was covered in burn paste after not quite dodging a flame spell. Those two were the most severe, but everyone was grungy and covered in small cuts, scrapes, bruises, or burns. Twice already they'd had to stop by the Healers to get a broken bone fixed - those wouldn't heal entirely without rest, but the healing spells were enough to at least put them back in the fight. Even he hadn't made it through unscathed, and his shoulder still ached from an earlier dislocation.

"We've got an assignment," the chuunin announced without preamble, "and it's going to be a tough one." He explained the plan and the reasons behind it before stating, "This is going to require us to move fast and hit hard, and it'll probably involve some very intense fighting. There's also the usual danger of running into nasty surprises when you're behind enemy lines. We'll be moving faster and facing more danger than earlier, and while we're making our way between positions there won't be any backup. I'll be pushing the pace hard, so anybody that's not sure they can keep up, I've got permission to swap people with the Hospital Wing defenders; let me know now." The framing as a question of mobility was deliberate, giving anyone leery of participating in such a dangerous mission a way out with no shame or judgment attached. If these were shinobi or other soldiers, he'd have just given them their orders and gotten on with things, but even with the training many had gone through up to this point they were still civilians and he wasn't going to order any of them into anything if he could help it.

This offer was met only by a chorus of resolute refusal. "Teamwork is vital," Neville pointed out, "and nobody else has trained with you as much as the five of us, aside from maybe Professor Flitwick, and he's not here."

"Even if the kids weren't going with you," Sirius chimed in, "we probably still would be. You need people that've been training with you at G- at Headquarters," he stumbled as the Fidelius kept him from spilling the Secret. "I really don't think you'd be able to pull together enough Order members to make up your numbers without us."

"We can keep up," Molly assured him, before nodding in the twins' direction. "Merlin knows keeping up with those scamps all these years has to have been good for something."

"Right then," Iruka said with a firm nod, "our first target is the passage by Myrtle's bathroom. It's one of the farthest from the main front, and things have been fairly quiet there, so we shouldn't have to deal with much resistance. It's also only really close to one other pocket of fighting, giving us a quick, short route with minimal odds of running into any other enemies before we're back behind friendly lines. Let's go."

It turned out that Auror Proudfoot, the same man that had interviewed Iruka the day he first arrived in Britain, was the one in command of the defensive position they'd be moving out through. "Professor Umino," he greeted with a firm handshake, "I hear you and yours are making a move here?"

The chuunin nodded with a grim smile. "That's step one, at least. Ideally I'd hope to take down whoever's on the other side, so they can't pass on warning or report what's happened, but I'd settle for routing them enough for your group to move forward and reclaim some ground. What do you know about the situation and the forces we're up against here?"

Proudfoot explained that the defenders here were taking advantage of a junction of several different corridors, each of which was now mostly barricaded with furniture and other debris, to create a withering crossfire against anyone foolish enough to challenge their position. This arrangement was made possible in part by the fact that there were quick routes between the defended corridors nearby, either through rooms with doors onto multiple hallways or smaller cross-passages. Two people manned each of the two side barricades, with Proudfoot and two others in the center. They'd been able to hold quite solidly against a force estimated to be at least fifteen witches and wizards thanks to their defensible position and the fact that Myrtle was spying on the attackers and regularly reporting on their activities.

"You've probably got a bit of a numbers advantage," Proudfoot mused, "especially if we pitch in on the push, but you'd be running right into spellfire the instant you cleared the corner. That's not a good place to be."

"No, it's not," Iruka agreed. "What we need is a way to draw them into the reinforced defenses or flush them out somehow."

"Flush..." Ron Weasley muttered. "Doesn't Moaning Myrtle flood the hallway outside her loo a lot? What if you used one of those water spells of yours to wash them into this hallway?" Everyone present turned to look at him, causing his face to swiftly approach his hair in shade. "I mean, you'd need to get behind them, but you said nobody ever looks up, and the ceiling's all shadows anyway..."

"I think," Iruka said slowly, "that I'd like to speak with Myrtle next time she pops by..."

The ghost in question showed up a few minutes later, and after speaking with her to confirm his suspicions Iruka laid out the plan. She left with a truly wicked grin, and Iruka set out to play his part. One Disillusionment Charm later he walked up the nearest wall and began creeping along the ceiling, moving slowly and keeping to the areas where the light from the corridor's surviving torches didn't fully reach.

As he turned the corner he saw the enemy fighters, about half of whom were watching the corner warily while the other half stood nearby visibly at ease. That ease was interrupted somewhat by the sound of splashing and trickling water, drawing several pairs of eyes to the puddle rapidly growing out from under the door of the girls' washroom a few meters behind the group.

"Bah, nothing to worry about," said one of the hooded wizards, "just old Moaning Myrtle pitching one of her tantrums again. Our Lord'll probably exorcise her or the like at some point once the castle's properly ours. I hear she was a mudblood, anyway." With that said, the rear group relaxed again and went back to quietly discussing plans for pushing out the defenders ahead of them and what they'd do to any they captured. None of them seemed to notice the flow of water increasing after the man's comments.

Iruka, who'd frozen just above the attackers when they went on alert, now resumed his progress, silently dropping to stand on the rapidly-growing puddle; landing _in_ the puddle would have given him away, after all. Through the door beside him he could hear a girl's voice muttering _"-exorcise me?! Typical, just typical, nobody ever cares about_ my _feelings..."_ He turned the handle on the door - not far enough to open it, but enough to be noticed if one was paying attention - and the muttering stopped before Myrtle's head poked out through the door. It'd been easier to just agree to her price of allowing her to watch what he did, rather than try to argue the tactical merits.

Very few situations allowed a shinobi to run through a protracted seal sequence, though some raised their sealing speed enough to mitigate this issue. More often, jutsu were selected that could be performed with only a brief sequence, while other times the sequence could be abbreviated at the cost of reducing the power or efficiency of the jutsu. In this case, the attackers' inattentiveness bought Iruka plenty of time to run through the full forty-four seals he needed; this, plus the copious water on the floor, drastically reduced the chakra cost of the B-rank water jutsu.

 **Suiton: Suiryūdan no Jutsu**!

The chuunin shimmered into view, his rapid weaving of hand-seals disrupting his Disillusionment, but his targets barely had time to notice before being distracted by the huge dragon-shaped torrent of water that erupted from the puddle at his feet and blasted them all tumbling down the corridor. He cut the flow of chakra almost immediately, leaving the battered and disoriented wizards to wash up - if he'd judged it correctly - in just the right place for his and Proudfoot's groups to promptly begin raining hexes on them. Sure enough, the sounds and multicolored lights of spellfire announced the fight beginning in earnest.

Since rounding the corner at that moment was just begging for a friendly-fire incident, Iruka instead kept a wary eye on the corner for any fleeing stragglers while he turned to see Myrtle gaping at what she'd just witnessed. "I'd say that was a pretty effective team-up," he said with a friendly grin, "wouldn't you?" Her only response was to continue her impression of an undead fish.

It only took about a minute for the sounds of battle to taper off before Sirius's voice called out "All clear!"

Iruka rounded the corner cautiously, still wary just in case things had gone against the defenders and this was a trap, but what he came upon was a corridor strewn with downed Dark wizards in front of some well-manned barricades. "Everybody okay?" he asked as he approached, keeping half an eye on the prone bodies in case anybody was playing possum.

"We're good," Proudfoot replied, stepping out from behind the barricade to join him. "Most of them didn't even have a chance to get their bearings, let alone cast back at us. That water spell, though... that was you at the World Cup a couple years back? I was trying to contain the rioters, got a right soaking too, but damn if it wasn't satisfying to see them on the receiving end for a change."

Iruka chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck before turning to help secure the survivors from the attacking force. "It seemed like the fastest way to stop the lot of them without hurting the people responding against the riot. My other option was fire, and I didn't think you guys'd appreciate getting splashed with that..."

Proudfoot gave a somewhat maudlin chuckle, then shook his head as he rose from confirming the wizard at his feet was dead. "Yeah, that wouldn't have been fun. Might have been worth it in hindsight, probably be a lot fewer of them coming at us tonight, but no way of knowing that then. Anyway, once we've got this lot dealt with we ought to get moving out to the next position. Best have my people and yours move together at least that far."

"Of course," the chuunin agreed. "We'll stick with you until you're at least reasonably set."

They were all soon advancing to a different set of defenses just shy of the top of the stairwell that ran from the first dungeon level up to the Second Floor, Remus sending a Patronus message back to the command center to let them know about the prisoners that needed retrieval. The dead attackers would have to stay where they were for now; the defenders didn't have the manpower to spare gathering enemy bodies, and it was only because of the worry that unwatched prisoners could be revived and allowed to rejoin the fight that they were even gathering the incapacitated. If things got much direr, the order might have to go out to deliver a _coup de grâce_ to downed enemies for lack of people to deal with prisoners. Nobody wanted that outcome, especially considering the high likelihood that some of those attacking were either coerced or bewitched rather than fighting of their own volition.

This corridor had been, to Iruka's knowledge, the only place where the Death Eaters had won through to the Second Floor: The stairwell didn't go any higher, and wasn't particularly well-positioned to take more ground, so there hadn't been as much of a force defending it as some other areas. A surprisingly large attack by the Death Eaters almost an hour earlier had dislodged the defenders holding the First-Floor landing, taking advantage of how poor a defensive position that landing actually was to push the most of the defenders far enough back into the adjoining corridor that they couldn't effectively interdict traffic on the stairs while a few retreated behind the prepared barricades on the Second Floor to use better fortifications to hold back superior numbers. Both groups of defenders had since been reinforced enough to stand against what forces the Death Eaters could spare from their main offensive, but if this counterattack went well those groups would be able to recombine and retake the landing with enough strength to hold it.

Once the Second-Floor landing was secured, Iruka's group made their way down the stairs as quietly and cautiously as they could; none of them wanted to get caught in a fight somewhere that bottlenecked them without offering any substantial cover. Upon reaching the First Floor, Iruka scouted ahead stealthily, finding that the Death Eaters were again using a bend in the corridor to keep most of their number safe against the defenders' spellfire. Out of twenty attackers, three to five at any one time would use the corner or a thick column that protruded from a nearby wall as cover to keep a bit of pressure on the defenders' position. It wasn't much, but it was constant enough to mostly keep the defenders' heads down in the absence of a concerted assault and would likely wear them down over time.

Iruka crept back to his friends and filled them in on the situation. None of them were enthusiastic about being outnumbered - the reports had estimated only half as many attackers on this front as were actually present - but given the circumstances all agreed that they'd have to chance it. Hopefully the position they were relieving had gotten the message and would sortie to assist them; that plus their training and teamwork should ideally tip things in their favor.

They advanced as quietly as they could, stopping just out of sight of the attackers' position. Once everyone nodded their readiness, Iruka crunched a food pill; even with what brief rest breaks they'd gotten, the hours of intermittent fighting were taking their toll on the middle-aged chuunin's reserves of chakra and stamina. His hands flew through familiar seals, and he stepped around the corner just as the final Tiger seal took shape.

 **Katon: Ryū** **ka no Jutsu!**

A torrent of fire barreled down the corridor, prompting cries of alarm from the attacking wizards who hastily cast whatever shields or other protections they could. Iruka kept the jutsu going as he advanced, the others with him now stepping out as well and exploiting the fact that the flames were blocking their opponents' vision to rush into whatever cover positions they could take before starting to cast curses and hexes at where they'd last seen their targets. It didn't take long for curses to start coming back in response, so once the last of his allies had found cover Iruka cut the flow of chakra to his jutsu and leapt up to the ceiling before the flames had dissipated.

Two of the attackers now revealed were down with massive burns - obviously they hadn't reacted in time and nobody else had bothered to try and help them - and several others were at least noticeably singed, but all those still standing were now hurling nasty-looking curses at this new threat that had so suddenly appeared. Due in part to the pronounced support arches characterizing this section of corridor, both sides had ample sources of cover and the firefight immediately bogged down. Iruka did what he could to even the odds, bouncing between walls and ceiling and adding in his own attacks from wildly varying angles while avoiding return-fire, but the other side's superior numbers allowed them to hold their own.

Unfortunately for this group of Voldemort's followers, their lack of organization and coordination meant that they'd all turned to confront the newest threat and completely taken their attention off the defensive position they'd been besieging. They discovered this fact when wizards and witches from said position hit them from behind, downing half a dozen attackers in fewer seconds and turning the corridor into a chaotic crossfire of offensive spells. Less than a minute later, the last of the Dark wizards was down and both groups of defenders moved out to secure prisoners and check for wounded when a scream of horror and grief went echoing through the castle.

" _ **ARTHUR!**_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.


	8. Fallen

Near the Hospital Wing, a large classroom had been cleared of its contents by the House Elves and now held dozens of simple conjured pallets laid out in neat rows. About a third of these pallets had been filled by this point, and it was around one in particular that Iruka and those under his command were gathered in support of their own.

Lying on the pallet was Arthur Weasley. He looked for all the world as if he were simply asleep, until one noticed his unnatural stillness and realized that his chest did not rise and fall with breath. For all the evil required to cast it, the Killing Curse was surprisingly merciful both in how swiftly it killed and in how it left the body unmarked. Many of the filled pallets were covered with blankets, and some of the shapes underneath were not immediately recognizable as human.

Molly was weeping, held in the strong arms of her two eldest sons and surrounded by her other children. Everyone else had surrounded the family, and few had dry eyes. Arthur had been a doting father, loving husband, faithful friend, and a generally kind and gentle person; very few people truly disliked the man, and most of those were on the other side of the night's battle.

"Daddy..." Ginny's voice was small, sounding far younger than her fifteen years as she and Luna clung to each other for comfort. " _Why?_ "

"It's your fault!" The angry shout drew all eyes to where Ron was being held back by the twins as he glared at Iruka with tears streaming down his flushed face. "Your plan, your fault! If we'd had a better plan, if we'd just stayed back where it was safe-"

"RON!" Bill's sharp yell cut across his brother's tirade. "Stop. Just... stop. Before you say another word, before you _hurt Mum_ any more, I want you to really _think_ about what happened and why. Remember what Mr. Nara tells you about strategy with a clear head."

"Bloody show _him_ 'troublesome'..." Ron muttered as he scowled angrily, before he closed his eyes and took several slow, deep breaths. Finally, he opened his eyes again, brow still furrowed. "It was a good idea. Risky, yeah, but not really different from any other fighting. Good chance of taking down a lot of enemy troops and gaining some ground without fighting bad odds." His frown deepened. "We all agreed to go. We knew the risks, no, we _thought_ we knew them. Shikamaru keeps saying nobody really understands what war's like without fighting in one... I thought the fights we'd had earlier tonight was what he meant. This is what he was talking about, isn't it? It's like it's not really _real_ when it's just people you don't know getting killed..." He shook himself, refocusing. "Looking back, we've been lucky up 'til now. We're good, yeah, but all it takes is one stray curse you don't catch in time. When there's spells flying everywhere, stuff exploding, people screaming, you don't really see anything but what's right in front of you - it's easy to miss stuff."

The ginger teen turned to Iruka. "I'm sorry, Sensei. Your plan was solid, and we all agreed with it. Dad-" He choked up for a moment. "Dad just got a bit of rotten luck. It's horrible, it's _wrong_ , but one bit of shit luck is all it takes to die. Only people's fault this is are You-Know-Who and the people following him."

Bill put a firm hand on his brother's shoulder, offering up a proud, watery smile and pulling him into the hug with their mother.

"He'd be so proud of you, Ronnie," Molly said tearfully. "All seven of you, so brave and clever and good." She turned to Iruka, a fire lighting in her red-rimmed eyes. "But he wouldn't want us lollygagging here when we could be back out _there_ helping people." Her expression spoke more of vengeance than altruism, and Iruka was about to comment when Xeno beat him to it.

"We should all take extra care, though," the journalist said firmly. "While I'm sure Arthur will miss all of you where he is now, he'd not be happy with any of you going to join him before your time. Let's all watch out for ourselves and each other as best we can." He gave the older Weasley brothers a meaningful look, getting resolute nods of understanding in reply.

While the rest of the group pulled themselves together and got ready to return to the battle, Iruka headed to the command center. He reported his group as ready for another "stitching attack", and worked with the command staff to find another route to use. The forward defensive position they'd enabled with their first excursion had since reported enemy contact, so they had to assume that the attackers were by now aware that _something_ had been done to eliminate the forces pressing that area. Other enemy positions could therefore be assumed to be more wary and prepared for counteroffensives. This plan had been risky from the start, as Arthur's death so tragically demonstrated, but now the danger had likely been raised even further.

Eventually, they hit upon an idea that would make the return attack a bit more viable. Instead of taking the direct route between two nearby positions, they'd opt for a more roundabout path and a more distant target. Even if the enemy was warier now, they weren't likely to pay much attention to goings-on at any but the nearest pockets of fighting (aside from the main front, of course). That, combined with coming in from a direction their targets would assume to be safe and secure, would improve their chances of once again attacking with surprise on their side. With all this in mind, Iruka and those helping him were able to plot out a path between two positions that actually took them down to the Ground Floor for quite a ways but would hopefully pay off with a less costly victory than their first attempt.

The others were mostly composed again by the time the chuunin returned, though there was a hard look in many of the more red-rimmed eyes that did not bode well for anyone on the other side. He explained the route to them, making sure that everybody knew where they'd be going. Since they'd be outside friendly territory for much longer this run, he also took the time to arrange a simple formation with himself out in front as a scout/skirmisher, the trio of Sirius at the front and Remus and Tonks as a rearguard to make best use of their sharper-than-normal senses and strong duelling skills.

As a further elaboration on the original plan, a second group of fighters had been pulled from wherever they could be spared. This second force of eight witches and wizards would assist at both ends of the mission, travelling between the two along a shorter path within friendly territory and staying out of sight of the enemy until battle was joined in hopes of maintaining surprise. Further, several of the defenders at the exit position had been pulled back slightly to give the appearance of having been called elsewhere. It certainly worked well on their way out, as the attackers were caught still planning their push through the "weakened" defenses and were totally unprepared to face a group ten times the size of what they expected. Three dozen Light fighters easily swept the small Dark band aside with the combination of surprise and overwhelming force.

A staircase hidden behind an old tapestry (depicting a battle against a long-past Dark Lord, aptly enough) took them down to the Ground Floor, where they immediately headed away from the battle front. During one of Iruka's trips forward to scout, his instincts began nagging at him that something was wrong. A noise off to his left drew his attention and he turned, burying a thrown kunai in the heart of a haggard-looking black-robed young wizard that had been emerging from an alcove with his wand raised.

The fresh corpse had only just begun to collapse when the chuunin's danger sense screamed at him to _MOVE_. He spun to the side, barely avoiding a spell as the hulking, bestial wizard that had cast it barreled into him. Iruka's right forearm came up under his attacker's chin, holding back the inhumanly long and sharp teeth snapping just short of his face, while his left grabbed the man's wand and squeezed hard enough to crush it to splinters. As the two continued to fall, he brought a knee up between their bodies.

Even if Iruka's body was resilient enough to take the blow without serious injury, being tackled hard onto a bare stone floor was never going to be pleasant, and he felt the air forced from his lungs by the weight of his assailant. A moment later, he took advantage of the inevitable slight rebound to kick out with the leg he'd brought up, tossing the brute off. Sucking in a greedy breath, the chuunin kipped back to his feet facing his attacker.

The large, hirsute figure turned his own tumble into a controlled roll, deftly rising to stand hunched forward slightly with his legs spread for stability. Now that he had a moment to think and process, Iruka recognized his adversary as Fenrir Greyback, the infamous werewolf criminal responsible for infecting Remus Lupin and a number of other children. Greyback looked down at his shattered wand and snarled angrily, his features and bearing animalistic even this close to the new moon. "You'll _pay_ for that, wizard," he growled.

Iruka noted in disgust that he seemed far angrier about the loss of his wand than the death of a comrade that the chuunin now realized was probably also a fellow lycanthrope.

No more words were exchanged. The feral werewolf threw the remains of his wand aside and charged with his arms out and wide, ready to either tackle Iruka in a bear hug or bring his claw-like nails into play.

To most witches or wizards, Fenrir Greyback was a terrifying opponent. It wasn't just his ferocity, or the resistance to magic he'd gained by embracing his curse; it wasn't just his enhanced speed, strength, senses, and durability. He was also cunning, ruthless, and resourceful enough to have survived and even thrived for over two decades with a death warrant hanging over him - using one of his own subordinates as bait to distract his prey was a clear demonstration of this. All of these contributed, of course, but the biggest issue was that typical witches and wizards were virtually helpless in close quarters. Thus, they would have either frozen or fruitlessly attempted to backpedal and keep the range open.

Umino Iruka wasn't a typical wizard.

Greyback's speed and strength were nothing to sneeze at, certainly (Iruka had felt that strength first-hand) and he had decades of experience in fighting. Unfortunately for the werewolf, his intended prey was also an experienced fighter and had something he lacked - training. For all of the bestial wizard's viciousness, he was still little more than an animalistic brawler that relied more on overwhelming his opponents with power and ferocity. Iruka, by contrast, had plenty of training in close-quarters combat and had sparred against a variety of different opponents including more than one Inuzuka. That clan's specialized taijutsu style may have looked wild and bestial, and to a degree it was, but it was also the result of many generations of refinement to cull as many obvious openings and weaknesses as possible while exploiting its wildness to make its users difficult to predict and counter. Compared to that, Greyback might as well have owl-posted this attack a week in advance.

The chuunin drew a kunai with each hand, holding the left one in a reverse grip. As Greyback lunged for him, Iruka ducked forward and to his right, pushing the werewolf's left arm up with a slash from his right-hand blade while the left-hand kunai struck across his opponent's belly. Disemboweled and with a major artery severed the feral wizard was already a dead man, but that didn't mean he wasn't still dangerous; countless fighters throughout history had discovered to their cost that "mortally wounded" doesn't always mean "incapacitated" or "harmless". Iruka knew this, and took advantage of his adversary's moment of shock to pivot on his left foot, brace the pommel of his left kunai with his right, and drive the blade in at the base of the man's skull to put him down quickly and cleanly.

If one discounted the werewolf's verbal threat, the entire fight had taken less than ten seconds.

Given the curse both of the dead men had borne, Iruka wasn't willing to risk infecting himself from their blood, so the kunai still in his hand was promptly discarded. He had hundreds more in his magically-expanded holsters. There was a bit of damage to the right shoulder of his vest where Greyback had grabbed him during his initial tackle, but the armored cloth had done its job and kept the werewolf's sharp claws from reaching him. He also had a few specks of fresh blood that he could see on his clothing, so given the risks Xeno had mentioned after Pandora's accident he decided to just burn them away with small fire spells rather than try to vanish or clean them. It would leave a couple of new holes in his sleeve, but better that than some accident from mixing magics.

More pressing, however, was to get back to the others. When a scout gets attacked, the main force needs to know about it and soon. Iruka hustled back as quickly as he could while watching out for further ambushes. Thankfully when he got there nothing seemed to have happened at that end.

Sirius certainly noticed his burned sleeve and damaged vest, however. "What happened?" he asked worriedly.

"Just a slight ambush," the chuunin replied calmly, "but I dealt with both of them. Fenrir Greyback won't be hurting anyone again." His voice took on a hard edge with that sentence.

More than one pair of eyes widened at that flat declaration. "You- he- what?" Remus croaked out.

Iruka shrugged. "I was a bad opponent for him. He probably didn't expect someone that he couldn't immediately overwhelm in-close. Granted, he did catch me a bit by surprise - used one of his own minions as an expendable decoy to distract me - but he didn't capitalize as well as he could have. What I'm more worried about is whether there are any more enemy fighters around us."

"We should stick together," Neville said firmly. "Even if there are more of them out there, we're better off working together than trying to spread out hunting for enemies that might or might not be nearby."

"If there's more of 'em, we'll have to fight them at some point no matter what," Ron observed. "So we could stay here waiting for them, turn back, push forward, or change course. Staying here's a bad idea; if there's more coming it'll give them time to organize and plan, and if there's nobody else we'd be sitting here like lumps for nothing. Going back's not much better - we _might_ be able to get back through where we came out, but if they're chasing us they probably know where we already hit and sent more people there. I'd say continuing on's probably best, since that's at least harder to predict where we'd go and we know we'll have backup if we make it to the other end."

"That's my thinking as well," Iruka agreed with a nod. "We need to push forward, but stick together and stay alert."

It was this very alertness that probably saved many of their lives a few minutes later. They were creeping along the edge of one of the various courtyards dotted around the Ground Floor when it happened. Those watching out above for enemy broom-riders and the like were the first to spot it, but the coruscating yellow-white spell was so large and blazingly bright against the darkness of the cloudy, moonless night that everyone's gaze snapped upwards almost immediately. With all of them so tense and ready, shields were promptly cast... just in time to be utterly shattered by the spell that tossed their casters all over the courtyard like leaves in a gale. Iruka suspected that he and Harry were probably some of the only ones to have seen the shadowy figure floating about where the spell had been cast from.

As he rolled to his feet against the far wall of the courtyard (which had now been expanded to include some of what had previously been adjoining classroom and hallway), Iruka saw what looked like a pillar of black smoke streak down to the ground near where Harry was also rising, wand in hand. At the same time, four white spikes embedded themselves into the stone in a rough rectangular formation around the pair. The smoke promptly vanished to reveal Voldemort, who shot a spell at the nearest of the spikes. Each of the four spikes was immediately surrounded by a dome of swirling, poisonous violet light, and these domes then emitted a box of the same light to form four walls and a roof around Harry and Voldemort. The space enclosed was a bit shy of ten meters long, four meters wide, and three meters high. Iruka's heart froze as he recognized it as a barrier similar to the one used by the Sound Four to entrap the Third Hokage with Orochimaru, the **Shishienjin** , though the inanimate anchors and the domes around them suggested it wasn't that exact jutsu.

"Nobody touch the barrier!" the chuunin shouted frantically, though most of the others were still picking themselves up. For a few moments everyone seemed to pause, before Voldemort broke the spell (figuratively).

"Hello again, Harry," the ophidian wizard said congenially, "you don't mind if I call you Harry, do you?"

"Not at all, _Tom_ ," the teen replied with a smile faker than Sai at his worst and his wand pointed straight at his opponent's heart.

Voldemort snarled and snapped off a spell whose color was difficult to determine through the barrier, but Harry dodged smoothly, allowing it to splash harmlessly against the pane behind him. Iruka noted that Riddle's wand looked to be of a different design than the one he'd held in Harry's memory of the graveyard; presumably he'd gotten a replacement somewhere. "Show respect, boy," the Dark Lord hissed.

"I do, if people earn it," Harry snarked back.

That seemed to tap out Riddle's store of patience and diplomacy as his eyes narrowed. "I had thought to offer you a quick and merciful death, but your insolence has changed My mind. I am not just going to _kill_ you," he spat, "I am going to _destroy_ you and parade your broken body before all those fools still daring to resist My reign. With Dumbledore apparently indisposed and their precious 'Boy-Who-Lived' dead, they will recognize that I cannot be beaten. Their resistance will finally crumble and all of Britain and then all of Wizardkind shall kneel before Lord Voldemort!"

Harry didn't respond verbally, instead choosing the moment Riddle seemed distracted in his boasting to cast what looked like a Gouging Spell. Voldemort parried of course, and a moment later curses were flying back and forth with deadly intent. Iruka tried throwing a kunai at Voldemort, and a lot of others present threw spells, but unsurprisingly the barrier blocked them all.

Bill immediately ran to the corner nearest him and began examining the anchor there, and Iruka joined him. Upon closer inspection, the anchor was covered with sealing script painted in glistening blood and finely-engraved runes. The spike itself looked to be made of bone, but it shone as if still wet and fresh. What Iruka could see of the seals seemed to be based on the barrier he'd used against Riddle's snake in the graveyard along with some clever links to the runic arrays, which were in turn vaguely similar to the sample warding setups he'd seen when learning Runes. He couldn't see the entire thing, and much of the rune-work was more than he could grasp from a quick glance. Judging by Bill's increasingly angry expression, however, there wasn't going to be an easy way to bring the barrier down.

"It's no good," the eldest Weasley son spat, seemingly unfazed by the lethal spells striking the barrier only a meter or so away. "I don't know about the seals, but the rest looks like an independently-keyed necro-linked ward array. Unless he's made a stupid mistake somewhere, it'd take me a full team and at least two or three hours to bring this down without finding the offsite components, and that's assuming the sealing work didn't complicate things further."

He was just opening his mouth to say more when Iruka tackled him to the ground, allowing a Blood-Boiling Curse to streak through where they'd been crouched moments before. Death Eaters were pouring into the courtyard, engaging Iruka's scattered force in a chaotic mess of spellfire. Knowing they'd be no help to Harry if they got themselves cursed in the back, Iruka and Bill sprang back to their feet and joined the battle in earnest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still here, just managed to forget to post yesterday. With my wife working from home for the foreseeable future, days of the week are far less distinct than they used to be.
> 
> Hoping you're all keeping safe and sane in these crazy times.


	9. Endgame

Harry ducked under the third Cruciatus Curse in a row, hoping that it either wouldn't make it through the barrier or at least miss anyone he cared about. Hoping was all he could manage at the moment though - he certainly didn't have time to look and see. Pretty much his entire focus was currently devoted to not losing this duel in the next second or so, and that'd probably stay the case until he either won or lost. What little thought he could muster in between frantically dodging and casting was busy trying to figure out how to pull out a win.

 **Reducto**. **Defodio**. Question one: What assets or advantages did he have? Well for starters, he was young and fit, probably having exercised more in the last month than Voldemort had in his entire life. Thanks in part to his training with Iruka-sensei his speed, strength, agility, and stamina were all beyond what even a professional athlete could normally reach. He'd been trained in physical combat as well as magical, allowing him to mix thrown kunai and shuriken in with his spells and all but guaranteeing a victory if he could somehow get in close. Those spells he knew and was using, he'd drilled and practiced until he could cast them as easily as breathing. According to Professor Flitwick, he had more magical power than a lot of adult wizards. The wand Voldemort was using wasn't producing the Brother Wand Effect, which meant he'd gotten a different wand that might not be as good a match for him as his original. Also, unbeknownst to Voldemort, Harry had faced him in an extended fight less than a day ago and so had some idea of how he duelled.

 **Perforo**. Question two: What factors were against him? First and foremost, Voldemort had decades of duelling experience that Harry lacked, along with an extensive repertoire of Dark and exotic magic that he was currently trying to demonstrate on the teen. Despite being older he was very spry, with his inhuman body probably more than making up for any physical losses due to age. Obviously nobody would say that the Dark Lord was lacking in raw power, so that was probably a wash as well. He'd also taken a terrain advantage by restricting Harry's movements with the barrier, limiting Harry's ability to dodge and maneuver.

 **Percusso**. **Lacero**. **Stupefy**. Question three: What did the situation look like currently? They'd been duelling for a little over a minute so far, but it had been very different from Voldemort's duel with Professor Dumbledore. That duel, for all of the power and skill it demonstrated, was almost an exhibition match, with both combatants seeming to politely take turns at times as they traded magics beyond the ability of most wizards. This fight, by contrast, was fast and brutal; Harry had kept up as constant a stream of attacks as he could manage, keeping enough pressure on Voldemort to deny him the opportunity to use some of his bigger, fancier spells that Harry would have little hope of countering. He'd dodged rather than shielding or blocking when he could manage it, leaving his wand free to counterattack. Voldemort was using a more standard duelling style, standing in one place and moving only when necessary, while throwing a wide variety of what Harry could only presume were horrifically Dark curses at every opportunity. Those curses included a substantial portion of Cruciatus Curses, but Harry had yet to see the characteristic poisonous green of the Killing Curse. As a net result, Harry was burning through his physical endurance much faster but keeping more magic in reserve. Overall the two of them were locked in a deadly stalemate, at least for now...

**-――――===ͽ ͼ===――――-**

Right after that huge blasting spell had tossed them all over the courtyard, Neville's first priority had been finding and rejoining his friends. Being suddenly overrun with Death Eaters had put paid to that - trying to run across an active battlefield was just asking for a curse in the back. As a terrifying consolation prize, however, he'd found himself duelling Bellatrix Lestrange one-on-one while her husband and their fellow masked minions kept his friends busy. He actually had a chance to get some payback for his parents, assuming he could somehow beat one of the most feared Dark witches in generations.

Now Neville was no slouch himself, being second only to Harry among S.E.N. in terms of duelling ability and equal to him in raw power. The problem was that Lestrange could match him on power and had plenty of practice in making best use of it in one-on-one combat, while Neville had found that he worked best as part of a group, acting as the big hammer or the sturdy shield while his friends handled the frantic high-speed side of things. He was only even still standing at the moment because she was very obviously toying with him.

"What's the matter, little Longbottom?" she taunted as they continued to trade spells, "don't you want to go join your mommy and daddy? After the Dark Lord crushes your little friends, I'll make sure you get a bed right next to theirs! Your whole Blood-Traitor family together as an example of what happens to those who refuse our rightful Lord! Don't worry," her voice took on a more childish, sing-song quality, "Bella will take _good_ _care_ of you!" The mad bitch threw her head back and cackled at her own 'wit' as an enraged Neville's Bludgeoning Hex splashed harmlessly against her shield. Spotting his chance, Neville cast a very particular spell.

To most wizards and under most circumstances, the Shield-Shattering Spell was considered a promising concept executed so poorly that it became practically useless. Any duellist with even a modicum of skill and training would recognize it instantly and be able to avoid or counter it with ease. If said duellist was to underestimate her opponent however, or if she were simply too unhinged to keep her attention on the fight, then the spell could do as its name implied and create a brief window of opportunity...

**/‾‾‾‾\**   
**|( ) ( )|**   
**-――――===ͽ § \\_^_/ § ͼ===――――-**   
**|||||**

"You cannot hope to win, Potter!" Lord Voldemort hissed. It took Him a moment to gather enough breath to keep talking without audibly panting - a show of weakness He would not permit. "You can't escape, either - only I can remove this barrier and it would even persist were I to somehow fall. There is only one outcome possible: You will die and I will rule forever!"

Why wouldn't the Brat-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Bloody-Die just _give up_ already? This was threatening to become a problem: The longer the boy continued to survive despite His efforts, the less effective destroying him would be in demonstrating His inevitability.

The night had not begun well, with Lord Voldemort being forced to urgently marshal His forces because He simply couldn't take the chance that Dumbledore might manage to bring in reinforcements from Umino's homeland. He should be the one _acting_ , not _re_ acting! His head still ached, and the fact that the pain had begun as an intense burning in a specific location on His forehead suggested that the Potter brat was somehow involved in _that_ as well. Dumbledore must have discovered some way to use the tenuous connection He'd discovered previously to strike at Lord Voldemort. Presumably it was some foolish attempt to slay or incapacitate Him from afar, rendered pointless though His power and preparations.

Assailing Hogwarts was a trial all its own. He'd had to pour a substantial amount of His own power into breaching the wards enough to let His forces through the front gates, and then been too busy directing and watching over the battle to properly rest. Useful tools though they were, His servants were largely too stupid and too cowardly to be trusted to handle things in His absence while He was indisposed; their actions and inactions during His years away proved that beyond question.

Things had seemed to be looking up when He spotted the group slinking through the courtyard like the vermin they were. At first He'd thought them just a simple target of opportunity, to be swiftly eradicated before moving on to other matters, but then He'd noticed the gaggle of gingers. Taking them for the Weasley family, He'd looked closer and predictably seen Potter nearby. Lord Voldemort had grinned; His little experiment with Seals might be of some use!

Lord Voldemort had descended upon the Light fools like a thunderbolt. He'd been a tad surprised and mildly disappointed at the fact that they'd managed to shield enough of His spell to survive, but no matter; His most faithful were not far away, and would undoubtedly recognize their Lord's work and soon come to deal with the Mudbloods and Blood-Traitors. He'd sent out the four anchors and cast the somewhat taxing spell required to ignite the barrier to make sure Potter received no more miraculous escapes or timely rescues.

After that bit of smooth sailing, however, the frustration had returned. The insolent whelp had proven to be exceptionally talented as a duellist, rivaling Lord Voldemort's own skills at that age. Further, rather than stand and fight like a proper wizard he insisted upon flitting about hither, thither, and yon, making for an irritatingly elusive target. Now, Lord Voldemort was beginning to feel His accumulated exertions from that night, and had been forced to ration His use of His better magics. Still, He would prevail soon enough, and make sure that anyone who recalled this duel would take the lesson that even Potter's extraordinary abilities had been for naught in the face of Lord Voldemort's power.

* * *

> _The Shield-Shattering Spell (also known in duelling circles as the Shieldbreaker) is a curious piece of magic, regarded by many as little more than a curiosity, the duellist's equivalent of a Fool's Mate in chess. Against an unprotected target, its effects are a slight pinch-and-twist. Even with an excessive amount of power devoted to the casting, it is unlikely to even bruise the target's skin. Upon striking a magical shield however, it functions not unlike a specialized counterspell, attempting to forcibly disrupt and dissipate the shield's energies._
> 
> _To the target, it feels as if their shield has been struck by a spell cast with several times the power actually used in the Shieldbreaker. The degree of this force-multiplier increases both with the caster's skill with the spell and with their focus on the intent behind the casting. That latter factor has caused some scholars to debate whether the Shieldbreaker might not be a distant cousin to certain Dark curses known for the difficulty or impossibility of shielding against them, though Arithmantic analysis has thus far failed to demonstrate any but the most rudimentary commonalities. Regardless, a student first learning the Shield-Shattering Spell might only be able to cause it to strike with twice or thrice the force of something like a Stunning Hex, whereas a master duellist or an individual of exceptional focus could multiply their power more than tenfold._
> 
> _Beyond simply making it far easier to breach a shield, the spell's effects also linger for as much as a second or two after striking, making it difficult or even impossible to raise a new shield. The strength of this inhibition fades rapidly, but it can still provide a brief window of opportunity._
> 
> _With such a substantial effect and energy-efficiency, one would thus expect Shieldbreakers to be a standard tool of magical combat, but this is not the case. First and foremost is the fact that any competent duellist will be capable of attacking in ways which limit the utility of shields, from the Dark curses used by some which can ignore shields entirely to the wide variety of indirect modes of offense which simply attack where the shield_ isn't _. Shields are also far from the only means of defending oneself, from cover to counterspells to simply dodging._
> 
> _The greatest weakness of the Shieldbreaker, however, is its above-mentioned lack of effect upon unshielded targets. Its characteristic blue bolt trailing a spiral of indigo sparks is instantly recognizable to a trained duellist, and such an individual will often reflexively either shift their shield so that the spell misses it or briefly drop it entirely. Truly fearsome duellists are able to recast their shield so quickly after dropping it that the energies don't have time to dissipate, making the recast almost effortless._
> 
> _Given all of this, there are only three major circumstances in which the Shield-Shattering Spell is of any real use: First, if the defender is simply bunkering down behind a shield without the skill, knowledge, or wherewithal to deal with a Shieldbreaker, the spell provides a more efficient and less taxing method of breaching their defenses. Second, it can be used to compel the target's actions, forcing them to briefly drop or move their shield and creating a momentary opening. Finally, a moment of distraction or inattention could leave the target unable to react in time._
> 
> _A prime example of this spell's utility is of course the now-famous duel between Neville Longbottom and Bellatrix Lestrange during the Battle of Hogwarts. Lestrange, easily Tom Riddle's (the Dark Lord claiming the name of Voldemort) most feared lieutenant, was toying with the sixteen-year-old Longbottom. She held up a shield against his attacks, a sign of contempt in many duelling circles, and became distracted in mad laughter (her mind, unstable since her youth, was profoundly disturbed after fourteen years of imprisonment and heavy Dementor exposure)._
> 
> _Her attention being thus occupied presented the third form of opportunity described above. This author had, when training Mr. Longbottom, taught him the Shield-Shattering Spell and prompted him to practice combining it with a quick offensive spell of his choice. Ever a diligent student, he proceeded to master both the Shieldbreaker and the combination to a level rarely seen outside veteran Aurors or duelling masters. Having spent his first two years at Hogwarts casting through an ill-matched wand had cultivated in the young wizard an extraordinary degree of focus, as he had previously needed to pour far more power and intent into his spells to get them to work in spite of this mismatch. The reader will recall that both skill with the Shield-Shattering Spell and focus on its intent can magnify its effects, and Neville Longbottom was and is by no means a weak wizard..._
> 
> _-From "Uses for Useless Spells" by Filius Flitwick, 2001 revision._

* * *

Harry winced as a slightly-less-than-adequate dodge let a yellowish curse sear a line of pain across his right hip. Both he and Voldemort were hurting and tiring, and it showed. In Harry's case his dodges were getting slower and sloppier, and every desperate gulp of air was a fresh agony to his cracked ribs. With Voldemort it wasn't as obvious at a glance, but to somebody that'd been fighting him the entire time the change in his spell selection was telling: At the start of their duel, the Dark Lord had been throwing lots of Cruciatus Curses and other exotic Dark magic presumably designed to maim and kill in various horrifying and painful ways. While Harry's near-constant barrage of offensive spellfire had kept him from using any of his truly spectacular tricks, it was still pretty clear that he'd been showboating as much as he could manage.

As the fight had worn on, though, that had been slowly changing. The Unforgiveables had become fewer and farther between, and he'd gradually stepped down from the complex and power-hungry Dark curses he favored to increasingly simple and efficient (though no less lethal) spells. Harry could even recognize more than half of what was being cast at him! He'd begun physically dodging more often as well, conserving his magic a bit at the cost of his much more limited physical stamina. Of course, the switch to more pragmatic spells only further increased how dangerous an opponent Voldemort was - if he'd started the duel fighting like this, Harry wouldn't have lasted long.

**-――――===ͽ ͼ===――――-**

Voldemort's most feared attack dog died with a look of shock and bewilderment on her face, realizing her shield had been broken at around the same time Neville's wordlessly snap-cast Piercing Hex punched a neat finger-width hole through her heart.

"Bella!" screamed Rodolphus Lestrange, who'd been duelling Ginny and Luna. He turned to curse Neville only to lose his wand to a Disarming Charm from Luna. Enraged, he drew a wicked-looking dagger from his robes and charged his wife's vanquisher. Out of the corner of his eye, Neville noticed Luna putting a restraining hand on Ginny's shoulder.

While the last Lestrange may have been armed, he didn't seem to have much more knowledge of knife-fighting than "pointy end goes in the other guy" - he simply charged head-on into a lunging thrust so telegraphed even Trelawney would have seen it coming. At the last moment, Neville stepped forward with his left foot, using his left palm to push Lestrange's forearm to the side. He pressed the back of his right wrist, bent like a waiter carrying a tray, against the back of his attacker's arm just above the elbow, keeping that arm momentarily out of play. Finally, the teen dropped his parents' last surviving torturer with a chakra-empowered left cross, wincing a bit as he heard and felt the older wizard's jaw shatter under the force of the blow.

Taking a moment to catch his breath after the physically and emotionally draining fight, Neville turned to the girls, worried what they'd think of his brutality. He needn't have worried; while Luna looked a bit distressed (she was always the most gentle and empathetic of his friends), Ginny just looked on in grim approval. Both girls gave him a reassuring nod, which he returned before the three of them moved to support their friends and families.

**-――――===ͽ ᛋ ͼ===――――-**

Harry and Voldemort were both battered, bleeding, bruised, and burned in numerous places. Voldemort's left eye was swollen shut thanks to a well-placed Bludgeoning Hex that he hadn't properly shielded, while Harry was fairly certain that the cracked ribs had broken completely and punctured at least one of his lungs - breathing was getting harder and he could taste blood. Neither of the two wizards was steady on their feet, and their casting had slowed to barely half the speed they'd displayed at first. Regardless of their respective states, one thing was clear to Harry.

He was losing.

Having Voldemort underestimate him at first had definitely bought him a lot of time, but once he started fighting truly seriously the Dark Lord's superior experience had begun to tell. It was also clear that his inhuman body was inhumanly durable; that Bludgeoning Hex should have fractured his skull with the amount of power Harry had put into it, and several of the cuts he'd inflicted earlier in the fight had already stopped bleeding. Even with as hard as he was able to push himself, even having already taken a soldier pill, Harry knew he was probably only one or two more hits away from passing out completely. He wracked his increasingly foggy brain for any ideas that could let him actually win this, somehow, but nothing he could come up with raised his odds of survival above "successfully biting through one of Hagrid's rock cakes".

A thought bubbled up, one of the many lessons on tactics and strategy that Iruka-sensei had tried to impart over the years: When in doubt, review your objectives. Upon realizing that his absolute top priority here was protecting everyone from Voldemort, the solution became obvious.

**Λ**   
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**V**

Iruka dodged yet another Dark curse before responding with a hex of his own while throwing a kunai into the back of the wizard currently duelling Xeno Lovegood. The battle in the courtyard remained a chaotic melee with both forces intermingled at random. Despite their best efforts, the defending fighters had been unable to consolidate beyond forming several small pockets.

This was partly due to the multiple waves of reinforcements both sides had received since the Death Eaters' arrival. He didn't know whether they'd been called in, heard the fighting and come to investigate, or even just somehow stumbled across the fracas while wandering about. It was most likely a combination, he thought. Judging by the number of masked figures he'd seen, the chuunin figured that all or nearly all of the Death Eaters were now entangled in this fight. The reinforcements waiting for Iruka's group at the endpoint of the "stitch" were present as well, but so were several people he'd last seen holding the line near the Hospital Wing.

All the chaos had made it particularly easy for Iruka to make good use of his shinobi skills: His mobility allowed him to flit around making hit-and-fade attacks, trying to avoid getting tied down in pitched duels when possible, their lack of noise and light made his kunai hard to notice for people accustomed to watching for incoming spells, and he'd used Substitutions several times to cause friendly-fire incidents for the other side. Unfortunately, it also meant he could only occasionally afford even a quick glance to check up on Harry. That duel had been going on for a while, and neither combatant was looking good, but he had to trust his student to pull through while the rest of them did their part.

**-――――===ͽ ᛋ ͼ===――――-**

Hurling a frantic string of hexes to put his opponent on the defensive for a moment, Harry channeled what little chakra he had left into his legs and charged, drawing a kunai in his off-hand as he went. Voldemort recognized the threat immediately, and retook the initiative and the offensive in the magical side of their fight, prompting Harry to throw up his best shield and hope it would hold long enough.

Unsurprisingly, it didn't.

Feeling and seeing his shield collapse under Voldemort's onslaught, the teen put everything he had left into a lunge that came out as an odd mix of a thrust with his kunai and a body-check. A cutting curse of some sort opened him up from his left shoulder to his right hip, but he desperately clung to consciousness as he plowed into his nemesis, plunging the kunai between his ribs as Harry's momentum drove Riddle back into contact with his own barrier. The Dark Lord gave a faint, gurgling scream as he was instantly engulfed in flames that also spread to the boy still in contact with him. Remembering the old primary school lesson of "stop, drop, and roll", Harry did his best to put himself out. The first two steps were quite easy, all things considered, but he mustered enough strength to roll a bit, and having been only indirectly ignited that was enough to snuff the flames as Voldemort's corpse continued to burn nearby.

Satisfied that he'd done his part to protect his friends and family, and happy that at least he wouldn't die burning, Harry finally surrendered to unconsciousness with a smile.

 **Λ**  
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V

On the battlefield, screams are generally to be expected, so a single scream during a crowded firefight wouldn't be all that noticeable. When it came from about where you knew your student was trapped in a duel to the death, however, it tended to draw your attention. When he was finally able to disengage from the group of Dark wizards he'd been fighting, Iruka took cover in the shadows behind a grotesque on the roof bordering the courtyard and looked towards the part of the battlefield enclosed by a barrier.

Both Riddle and Harry were down. The former was unmoving despite being on fire, so Iruka assumed he was probably dead. Hopefully. The kunai handle protruding from the Dark Lord's torso added a bit more weight to that theory. Unfortunately, Harry was also not moving, and the dark pool slowly spreading under him was _not_ a good sign.

The teen needed medical attention, and soon, or he wasn't going to make it. For that to happen, they'd need to be able to reach him, which would require bringing the barrier down somehow, which they couldn't even make a start on attempting while there were still people right there trying to kill them, meaning Harry's life currently depended upon ending this battle NOW. Losing would end it quickly, but would also leave them unable to help Harry. Given the fact that Voldemort had returned from apparent death once before, pointing out that he'd fallen here wasn't likely to convince many of their enemies to surrender. More than a few probably wouldn't care even if they _did_ believe the Dark Lord was dead, either because they were under the Imperius and didn't have a say in their actions or because Voldemort had always been a means to an end for them and their side was still arguably winning.

Iruka desperately tried to think of something, _anything_ he could do that would quickly end the battle in their favor or save Harry by other means, but then he heard something. It was faint, but growing louder, and he thought it might possibly be the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard:

It was the sound of a thousand chirping birds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just couldn't resist that cliffhanger.
> 
> So, just in case the chapter didn't make it sufficiently clear (and if it didn't and you've got any ideas on how to change that, please tell me!), here's my rationale for how Harry vs. Voldemort and Neville vs. Bellatrix went:
> 
> Harry and Voldie both went in at less than 100%, Harry because he'd been running and fighting for hours, and Voldie because he's been spending magic breaching the wards, flying around, and casting an overpowered blasting spell followed by lighting up the barrier. Voldemort started out underestimating Harry and therefore fighting inefficiently, which tired him further until he finally acknowledged that he had to stick to efficiency and pragmatism over showboating and sadism. Both of them started in about the same place physically and magically, but Voldemort's greater experience and knowledge and his use of the Dark Arts to twist and enhance his body gave him an edge that Harry could only overcome by putting self-preservation second to victory.
> 
> Bellatrix was much fresher than her boss, having had more opportunity to rest at times, and she was a bad match against Neville: She was more of a speed type, while he was a slower power-type. In the end, though, hubris plus insanity equals distraction equals death.
> 
> Neither Harry nor Neville were on par with their opponents fighting at full strength. They may be heroes, but they're still just 16 years old and going up against people that were fighting and killing for years before the boys were born.
> 
> I also went back and re-did the bit that's now from Voldemort's perspective - it was originally much shorter and from Harry's perspective - because that let me explain a bit more.


	10. Cavalry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Mentions of torture and mutilation.

Needles made of brilliant white lightning chakra sleeted down into the battle, peppering over half a dozen of the Dark fighters. Elsewhere, Death Eaters and their ilk fell to less flashy but still lethal kunai. Many of those attackers still standing turned to meet this new threat, only to be cursed by whoever they'd just been fighting. The rest found their personal space very suddenly invaded by shinobi via **Shunshin** and were quickly taken out of the fight.

«Iruka, good to see you again.» Hatake Kakashi, Sixth Hokage (Retired) appeared next to him. «Status report?»

«Enemy leader neutralized,» the chuunin said crisply, pointing at the also-crisp corpse in the barrier. «Friendly casualty in the barrier with him, in need of immediate medical aid. Other than that, it looks like the enemy's command structure is mostly gutted, though they still have significant forces elsewhere on-site.»

Kakashi nodded. «We've already got people dealing with that. Once the scene's secure, we'll get the main group of medics in, but it looks like I'll have to call in the Barrier Corps to extract Harry-kun.»

«I'm not sure he has that kind of time,» Iruka said grimly, jumping back down and rushing towards the barrier with Kakashi in tow. Bill and Pandora were already making their own ways over.

"Mr. Hatake," the eldest Weasley son said as he ran up, "tell me you have some way of bringing this barrier down fast; there's no chance my way would get Harry out in time."

"The seal work looks like something I could bring down by hitting it with enough power," Kakashi replied, peering at the nearest anchor, "but given the state and location of Riddle's remains I doubt that'd be very safe, and I've got no idea what effect the bones and runes might have." He shrugged. "I've been focusing on figuring out how to deal with magic enemies, not magic barriers."

"I didn't see any of the Death Eaters use the Killing Curse that entire battle," Pandora observed, studying the anchor herself with a look of disgust on her face. "Only Riddle could have ordered that and made it stick. They weren't exactly going out of their way to avoid killing us, which means that curse in particular might be able to bring the barrier down."

"It probably would," Bill confirmed, "if we could cast four of them at the barrier. Of course, whatever four people it's connected to would die, but depending on what state they're in now that might be a mercy." At her horrified look, he elaborated, "If this is what I think it is, those bones are from four living people that are acting as a power source. The barrier is tied to them, which is why all those Cruciatus curses didn't make it through - only a solid object or a living being can stop an Unforgiveable."

"These victims," Kakashi cut in intently, "would they need to be nearby?"

Bill nodded. "Relatively, at least, probably within five or ten kilometers at most. Range would reduce the strength of the connection, so he'd have wanted them as close as possible."

As soon as Bill had started talking, Kakashi had created two shadow clones that immediately vanished in a blur of motion, much to Bill and Pandora's visible confusion. "I'm getting help," he explained.

Iruka had an inkling of Kakashi's plan, and immediately called out to the twins to ask about the broom-riding forces before asking Bill to dispatch a Patronus messenger calling for brooms to be brought immediately. Less than a minute after the silvery spell had zipped off, Naruto arrived, followed a few seconds later by Sakura.

«Report.» commanded the Seventh Hokage. Kakashi explained the situation as quickly and succinctly as possible. Naruto nodded before erupting in glowing golden chakra as a set of Gudōdama formed in the air behind him.

Bill and Pandora both leapt back in shock, and several other nearby witches and wizards cried out as well, but Iruka reassured them. "Don't worry; he's just looking for what we need to rescue Harry." He directed this mostly at the bystanders that, being unfamiliar with his origins, were still also looking warily at the shinobi currently securing the area (and any prisoners) and administering first aid to the friendly wounded. Even as he spoke, Sakura created a Shadow Clone and both of her went to start treating the worst off. "Oh, and she's a Healer," he added to calm their fears as her hands lit up with green medical chakra.

«Got them,» Naruto said. «They're together, about three and a half klicks that way.» He pointed off in a direction that would put the site near Hogsmeade.

"We'll go with you," Iruka said in English for Bill and Pandora's benefit, "as soon as our transportation gets here. We should also bring Sakura or her clone, since we're expecting to find at least four injured people. Pandora, you're the lightest here, so you should be the one to carry her." She nodded in assent.

A tense minute-or-so later, the famous Gryffindor Chaser Trio zoomed down into the courtyard and passed their brooms off. Iruka, Bill, and Pandora each boarded one of the Nimbus 2001s, and Sakura (or her clone) climbed warily on behind Pandora. Naruto lifted into the air and flew off, with the three brooms following close behind.

They quickly found themselves at the mouth of a cave just outside the village. It was an out-of-the-way spot, not something a passerby would be likely to discover by happenstance. Inside was a scene of horror, more depraved than anything Iruka had seen during his time on active duty. Admittedly, he'd _heard_ of worse from others, but seeing it first-hand was something else. The four tormented victims in that cave, three wizards and one witch, were clearly the source for the bones used in making the barrier's anchors, and those bones had almost certainly been extracted while they were fully awake. Witnessing just the aftermath of the atrocity committed on those four made even Iruka hope that Voldemort's soul-splitting meant that he'd be suffering eightfold in the afterlife. Judging by Naruto's stormy expression, even the blonde who seemed able to find forgiveness and compassion for almost everyone was having similar thoughts.

After hurriedly examining the scene, they'd concluded that the most expedient way to bring the barrier down without killing anyone was to have Sakura amputate the victims' legs, from which the bones for the anchors had been extracted. It was a harsh solution, but Bill suspected that the amount of Dark magic involved meant it would never have been possible to properly heal those legs regardless of what they did, and Sakura promised to provide prosthetic replacements.

Sakura and several fresh Shadow Clones got to work, using the other four as assistants. She started by knocking the patients out to spare them further suffering before quickly removing the mangled limbs and thus disconnecting the victims from the barrier before cleaning and closing up the stumps and making sure all four were stable for transport. She and Naruto both promised to send a medical squad as soon as they could and asked the other three to wait there and watch over the four new amputees. They then disappeared into chakra smoke, revealing both to have been Shadow Clones.

**Λ**   
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**V**

It was over half an hour of tense, awkward attempts at conversation to break the tense, awkward silence before the medical squad found them. Once the four victims had been prepped for transport Iruka, Bill, and Pandora flew back to the castle as quickly as they dared. They did slow down coming in to make sure people got a good look at them, though; with everyone still keyed-up and spell-shocked after the battle they didn't want to risk a friendly-fire incident.

Harry and the others were gone from the courtyard by the time they got back. Even the bodies of the dead had been removed elsewhere, though the blood and debris hadn't been cleaned up at all yet. The three of them headed towards the Hospital Wing, but ended up being redirected to the Great Hall. Apparently the large space was being used to house those wounded not in need of urgent or extensive care, along with whoever happened to be accompanying them at the moment, while the Hospital Wing was filled with the most serious cases and nobody was allowed in except medics and patients.

Given the fact that the wounded were very much in the majority among those that had fought, the Great Hall had become sort of the de facto gathering area for surviving defenders without any tasks to occupy them. Cleanup and rebuilding, while important, weren't exactly urgent and nobody was in a state to deal with them at the moment. They could have gone home, especially those with nothing more than scrapes and bruises, and some did, but most seemed uncomfortable leaving the safety of large groups. A lot of them were too tired to Apparate, and nobody was going to trust the Floo until it was confirmed as secure - there'd been too much suspicion for too long of Death Eater agents or sympathizers working in Floo Control.

Bill split off to head to the first morgue (and wasn't it a testament to the battle's toll that they had need of more than one morgue even without considering the enemy dead...). Now that the fighting was over, he figured that his family would be returning there.

At the Great Hall Iruka dropped Pandora off with Luna and Xeno. The three of them were holding each other tightly, needing the reassurance that they'd all made it through. They were far from the only family Iruka had seen or would see that night doing the same, though for some the sentiment was one of clinging to those who remained.

Iruka's memory of the rest of that night/morning would later blur together, as such times often did. The exhausted chuunin traveled through the castle, checking up on his students, friends, and acquaintances before finally making his way to one of the many temporary barracks that'd been set up (one hosting Konoha shinobi) and practically collapsed onto a cot to sleep.

**/‾‾‾‾\**   
**|( ) ( )|**   
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**|||||**

Peter huddled tiredly under a fallen tree. As soon as he'd seen the Dark Lord fall against Potter, he'd known it was time to go; the Death Eaters' ship was sinking, so he did what came naturally as a rat. In the chaos of the battle and its end, a lone rat should have easily been able to slip away. He didn't even need to go far, just far enough to get out from under the castle's anti-Disapparition wards. One quick turn later, and he'd have been well on his way to the Continent and thence to somewhere that'd never heard of Peter Pettigrew. It was a big world out there, after all, and now he could find a safe place in it without the Dark Lord hunting him down. Best case would be somewhere without much in terms of a magical government, where he could get by quite nicely with just a few spells on a few Muggles providing him with food, money, housing, and possibly even "companionship" if he found a suitable Muggle girl.

All that was in the future though. In the present, he was too busy trying to make good his escape. It _should_ have been easy, just a straight shot across the grounds to the nearest ward boundary, barely a few minutes under good conditions. He'd gotten about a quarter of the way there when a flash of white caught his eye, and he'd recognized Potter's owl Hedwig circling overhead and instinctually _known_ that she was after him.

Normally, an owl has no trouble taking a rat, but normally rats can't turn into wizards and throw curses at owls. Normally, a wizard has no trouble dealing with a hostile owl, but normally wizards aren't desperately trying to avoid notice from other wizards and strange foreigners that move far faster than they've any right to. Thus it was that the two entered into a sort of moving stalemate, with both of them watching each other, waiting and hoping for a moment of inattention that would let Peter escape or allow Hedwig to swoop down and snatch him.

With the blasted owl overhead, he was forced to change course and head for the Forbidden Forest. There simply wasn't enough cover on the grounds for him to be able to lose his avian stalker, and his instincts told him that if he got too close to the wardline the scarily intelligent owl would attack him in spite of the danger. Hopefully, the Forest would provide him the opportunity he needed to get away.

That had been quite a while ago, long enough that sunrise was now hours past and it was getting closer to noon than to dawn. Peter and Hedwig had spent the time engaged in a life-or-death game of cat-and-mouse, the name of which might be even more apt than it already was if those glimpses of ginger fur he'd seen weren't just a product of fear and exhaustion.

Wormtail rose wearily to his paws. There was no time for him to rest more than a few minutes at a stretch; he had to keep moving before Hedwig's patience ran out or something else in this forest got to him. He'd heard tales of a colony of giant spiders, big enough that they could eat him in either form, and he did _not_ want to find out if there was any truth to them. Regardless, he'd already picked his next bit of cover, a rock a half-dozen meters away next to a small stream where he might be able to get a drink of water and regain some energy. Looking around what he could see from this hidey-hole, he tensed up and dashed, keeping a wary eye on the sky the whole time.

Some might say he should have watched lower down as well, but in truth it wouldn't have helped. Halfway to his target a bunch of star-shaped iron blades buried themselves in the dirt in a rough circle around him.

"You not rat. You are human." He looked to see the speaker, a middle-aged man with Asiatic features dressed in the same outfit as Umino. Peter would have thought the man blind, given his blank white eyes, but the way he met Wormtail's gaze directly and the unnaturally-bulging veins around those eyes suggested that maybe he could see just fine. "You come with us and answer questions. You try fight or run, we hurt you or maybe kill. You change back now."

With a blur of movement, three other similarly-dressed figures had surrounded him. How? How could they have tracked- He spotted that damned ginger half-Kneazle rubbing itself against the calf of one of the foreigners, shooting Peter a smug look, as Hedwig alit on a branch nearby.

**Λ**   
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**V**

Iruka woke up about fourteen hours later according to a quick Tempus spell that drew odd looks from the couple of other shinobi in the room that were currently awake. He promptly reported in to the nearest jounin asking where he could be of use, but was told that much of the force that had been sent were already stood down. Outside of the medics, who were still working themselves to exhaustion, most of the on-duty ninja were patrolling or on watch securing the castle or assisting the Aurors in mop-up operations and trying to track down those enemy fighters that had fled.

«Leave mop-up to us, Iruka-sensei,» the jounin said with a smile that hadn't changed that much since he'd been an Academy student ten years prior. «You and the locals already handled the hard part. Go check in on your students.»

«Thanks, Kaede,» he replied. «You wouldn't happen to know...» Shinobi were notorious gossips; when information was your life's blood, it was only natural to want to know everything about everyone. Hopefully there'd be word going around about Harry.

«Potter-san?» Iruka nodded. «Stable, last I heard, though it took Uchiha-san some work to get him there. He's still in bad shape and it'll probably be a while before he wakes up, but considering he took down this world's equivalent of Orochimaru one-on-one even being alive's damn impressive.»

The chuunin slumped in relief. «So we made it in time, then.»

«Yeah,» Kaede said, «Still no visitors allowed in the hospital area, though, so you're better off looking for the other ones. People have been moving around a lot as the minor wounded get first aid - medics are all too busy or too tired or both to properly heal them, so scrapes and bruises are just going to have to heal on their own - and as more of the castle's been cleared as safe so they can spread out. You might have to hunt a bit, but since you speak the local language you can probably just ask the creepy talking paintings for help.»

After wandering over half the castle, Iruka finally managed to track down his wayward students. They and the rest of his battlegroup, minus their fallen, were all staying together with some of their other friends in a side corridor two floors below the Gryffindor Common Room entrance. The whole area was filled with the kind of uneasy quiet and brittle smiles of people trying to decide between being happy for their survival, grieving for those lost, blocking out the horrors they'd witnessed, or regretting those they'd inflicted. The chuunin joined them, doing his best to help them figure out what to do next.

* * *

It took less than a day to complete the majority of mop-up operations and piece together a preliminary account of the battle as a whole. Over the coming days, weeks, and months, a clearer picture would emerge and more matters would be resolved.

The defenders had had a very close call at the main battlefront, with their forces almost at the breaking point from the relentless onslaught before the pressure had mysteriously begun to abate. Based on the timing, and the distant boom several witnesses heard, this was presumed to have been due to the Death Eaters haring off to support their master. That would have left the attacking force not only without most of its leaders and heavy-hitters, but also without those liable to cajole the more reluctant among the attackers to push forward into the defenders' spellfire.

A short while later, Filius and the others working on the Vanishing Cabinet had finally completed repairs enough to begin letting reinforcements through. The first few squads had secured the Room both to protect the Cabinet and to act as a staging ground. With their beachhead secured, the first echelon poured through as quickly as the Cabinet allowed. Hatake Kakashi led this group; Naruto had apparently wanted to do it himself, but been pointedly reminded by his friends and predecessor that the Hokage's place was in Konoha, particularly when they were sending a substantial force away from the village. That didn't stop him from sending a couple of Shadow Clones to assist, luckily for Harry.

Already knowing the current status of the battle thanks to the mirror connection, they were able to keep their plan updated even before the Cabinet was ready, so once they'd all assembled in the Room they immediately went to work.

At the front, the defenders were almost as shocked by the arrival of their reinforcements as the attackers were. Very suddenly, chaos and devastation struck the enemy's ranks: Wizards and witches found themselves suddenly swarmed with parasitic beetles or trapped by their own shadows. Figures in similar dress to Professor Umino dashed into the battle at impossible speeds, striking with a variety of weapons and techniques. Some attackers collapsed after nothing more than the slightest of touches from pale-eyed foreigners. Blasts of lightning, gusts of wind, torrents of water, gouts of flame, and streams of mud erupted everywhere. Through it all, a few people with particularly keen eyes saw a green blur streaking throughout the attacking force, breaking limbs and sending bodies flying.

All told, from the moment the foreigners first took the field, the main battle was over in less than thirty seconds.

The first echelon had been composed entirely of heavy-combat squads selected based on how well-suited their abilities were for fighting against wizards; the Akimichi Clan, for example, would have mostly just been easy targets for the Killing Curse. Once the main battle was resolved, squads began spreading out into the castle to start dealing with the smaller pockets of fighting. Meanwhile, the second echelon began coming through. They were more specialized forces comprising battlefield medics, prisoner-securing squads, and sensor/tracker units meant to hunt down isolated enemies or casualties as part of the immediate mop-up. All but the hunter-tracker squads headed straight to the main site, seeing to the wounded and freeing up more first-echelon units to spread out and secure the castle. The third echelon, mostly medical and logistical support, only started coming through once most of the fighting was reported as being over.

Konoha's leadership spoke at length with the Ministry of Magic, working to negotiate permission to send trained interrogators to help accurately sift the innocent victims from the criminals trying to escape justice, with Yamanaka tapped to handle the more important or uncertain cases. It would take some time for the shinobi in question to be ready, as delicate work like interrogation would be badly hampered by a language barrier. Apothecaries throughout Britain would soon be getting bulk orders for the Linguanova Libation, and not just for the interrogators. Unfortunately a large-scale battle fought in large part by civilian volunteers wasn't something Shikamaru had focused on in his planning, considering it unlikely enough that resources were better concentrated on broader preparations, so only a couple of counselors had even begun learning English. With suddenly hundreds of people likely to be suffering from battle shock, post-traumatic stress, and bereavement, trained counselors were getting pushed to the front of the line for language lessons.

While the responding shinobi had suffered only three deaths and twelve injuries of varying severity, both the attacking and defending wizards had been horrifically mauled. Final estimates put the defenders' losses at between fifteen and twenty percent, with another forty to fifty-five percent injured. The attackers, being the losing side, had unsurprisingly fared even worse; over forty percent were dead and a similar number injured. All of the trolls and giants had been killed, as had about half of the school's thestrals and hippogriffs. It would take weeks to corral and recapture most of the Dementors that had been driven off, with sporadic incidents continuing for months after.

Complicating matters, more than two thirds of the prisoners claimed that they'd been under the Imperius Curse. According to interrogations and investigations, about thirty percent of the attacking force had been conscripted using either the Imperius or more mundane methods such as the taking of hostages. These conscripts had frequently been pushed to the front and used as expendable shock troops, and as such had suffered the most severe casualty rates. Of those victims forced to fight against their will, only about a third survived the battle, and many of the survivors bore horrific mental and physical scars.

On an individual level, two other people Iruka had known were dead: Severus Snape had died near the end of the battle, around the time of Voldemort's death, fighting ferociously in defense of a group of Slytherin Seventh-Years and recent alumni. Sirius, Remus, and Tonks had been working as a highly effective team when Remus got pulled out of position; before the other two could get to him, he was struck in the back with a Killing Curse by none other than Dolores Umbridge, who outlived him by less than sixty seconds. Reportedly her comrades didn't take kindly to someone disobeying their master's orders, and the sadistic witch had died in a hail of Dark curses. In a conversation some years later, Sirius would confess that not all of those curses had been cast by Death Eaters. Rodolphus Lestrange actually survived the blow Neville had dealt him, albeit with his jaw shattered and his spine severed. Given the desperate need for healers by innocent victims and potentially-innocent prisoners and the fact that all three Lestranges had already been under sentence of death for crimes they'd proudly admitted, he never received more than a bare minimum of care. The last Lestrange spent the short remainder of his life as an invalid, unable to speak or move or affect the world in any way, a prisoner in his own body.

Harry woke up after three days, but would spend the next two weeks recovering from his injuries and exhaustion and be left with a truly impressive collection of scars. The rest of S.E.N. and their families moved back to Grimmauld Place while he was still convalescing, though they all visited him frequently once they were allowed to. When he was finally released from the care of the medics and Healers, he too returned to his godfather's home.

Like many other families throughout Magical Britain, those at Number Twelve slowly began to heal themselves, each other, and their society. Not all was well, not yet, but is it ever, really?

* * *

**Omake!**   
**This was something I'd intended to include in the story proper, but it just didn't work considering the tone of what came immediately after.**

About halfway to Hogsmeade, a loud crash behind them was followed by what looked like a badly-injured troll flying by at speed. "Was that..." Bill stammered, "what...?"

Sakura shook her head. "People really shouldn't interrupt Shishou while she's working."

* * *

**Omake?**   
**I wanted this to be Voldemort's ultimate fate, but that would have fit the prophecy even worse than his canon ending. Thus, it is presented on a "maybe it happened, maybe it didn't" basis.**

Lord Voldemort regained consciousness. This was something of a surprise, given that His last memory involved being stabbed and immolated by the Potter brat, so He would expect to have simply found Himself a bodiless wraith once more. It was possible that one of His loyal followers had retrieved Him somehow and nursed Him back to health - Bellatrix, perhaps - but were that the case He would not feel thick straps securing His nude body to a cold metal surface nor a tough, rubbery object stuffed in his mouth.

Where was He? Every breath filled His nostrils with a sharp chemical smell, and soft whirring and humming sounds came from somewhere nearby. As His vision began to return, He could see a bright light shining in his face even through His closed eyelids. Slowly, with much squinting and blinking, He became able to view His surroundings.

He was at the center of a windowless chamber the size of a small office. The walls and ceiling, where they were visible, were covered in plain white tiles. It was clearly in a Muggle building of some sort, as it was lit with electric lights and there were strange Muggle machines along one wall covered with buttons and knobs and television screens and small colored lights that sometimes blinked or flickered.

"Ah, finally awake I see". Lord Voldemort's gaze snapped to the figure that had very definitely not been standing beside Him a moment earlier. He'd not seen any of the telltale shimmer of a Disillusionment Charm, nor heard the rustle of an Invisibility Cloak or the crack of Apparition.

Lord Voldemort glared imperiously at His presumed captor, commanding His release with His gaze and expression. The man (at least He presumed it was a man, though their features were more delicate and androgynous than even Lucius as a youth) was slender and effeminate, with long, straight black hair and pale white skin. His eyes, which looked far older than his youthful face, were surrounded with purple markings and had gold irises and snakelike slit pupils. Did this fool think to imitate Lord Voldemort and His connection to the noblest of all beasts? Even his voice was not dissimilar, high and cold and sibilant, though somewhat breathier than Lord Voldemort's own.

Wait, could these similarities and His captivity be connected? Could this pretender intend to take Lord Voldemort's place, stealing all that He had built?

A rather disturbing-sounding chuckle issued from the figure. "For someone who thought himself a grand manipulator, you are depressingly easy to read." He spoke with a bit of an accent, but so slight it was difficult to place. "No, I have no interest in supplanting you among what few followers you still have. My resources are far greater than your own, and more than sufficient to my needs. Rulership over an entire society would be tedious, anyway, and take far too much time away from more important work."

"But perhaps I should introduce myself, yes? I am Orochimaru," he stated with a mocking, facetious bow, "leader of Otogakure, the Village Hidden in the Sound. I enjoy research, discovery, and novelty, and dislike boredom and stagnation. My dream is to master every jutsu - every spell as you would say - to become the ultimate being. As for my hobby, let's just call it 'self-improvement', shall we?" His grin stretched unnaturally wide at that.

"You, of course, are Tom Marvolo Riddle..." Lord Voldemort focused all His indignant rage at the man. How dare he use that filthy Muggle name that the Dark Lord discarded decades ago as a snake sheds a skin it has outgrown?! "Oh, don't be like that," he gestured as if to wave away an annoying insect. "Dark Lord and would-be ruler of Wizarding Britain, leader of the terrorist insurgents known as the Death Eaters, proponent of frankly imbecilic ideas about proper bloodlines, and most recently loser of a duel with a sixteen-year-old schoolboy. To be fair, I was also temporarily killed by a sixteen-year-old orphan, but I was very ill at the time and I _had_ just spent the prior three years grooming him into one of the greatest warriors our world has ever seen."

"We have a number of similarities, actually," the man continued casually. "Our desire for power, our affinity for snakes, our ruthless pursuit of immortality, and our having been labeled as enemies to the established order. In so many ways we are alike, and quite a number of people familiar with both my world and yours have commented on this." His seeming calm gained a hard edge that spoke of tightly-controlled anger. "What the fools fail to recognize is that almost all of these similarities are purely superficial. I am a scientist, forever seeking new knowledge to acquire and new ways to improve myself. You are nothing but a scared little child seeking to destroy everything around you in a desperate and ultimately futile attempt to feel safe. You are almost entirely lacking in curiosity, originality, or creativity. Every time someone notes our similarity is an _insult_."

"You're not entirely incompetent," he allowed, "considering that even with your foolish soul fragments all dealt with," Lord Voldemort's eyes widened in shock - His Horcruxes, gone? How? "I was still able to revive you. That barrier you created was a clever bit of work, though even there it felt as if you were unknowingly aping me when you used it to trap Harry Potter for your little duel. You _did_ gather a great deal of knowledge most in your world thought lost, rediscovering ancient and forgotten techniques."

"But even now, you still don't seem to have stumbled upon the most _pressing_ question. 'Why go to all the trouble of having my agents retrieve you, spending months of effort and no small amount of resources resuscitating you and healing your injuries?' So disappointing." Orochimaru shook his head. "The answer, Tom-kun, is that unlike you I am curious. I hear about magic and I wish to learn all about it just as I do with jutsu, a process I began even before the passageway between our worlds was opened. I hear about all of these strange and fantastic creatures, and I want to see them, to study them. I hear about a man that thought it was a good idea to tear pieces off of _his own_ soul, and I want to discover exactly what that did to him." That unnatural grin came back, even wider than before. "I hear about an immortal wizard, and I realize that he'd be a wonderfully _resilient_ research subject, one that would recover from all manner of tests, one that I could spend _years_ studying to my heart's content. So, Tom-kun..."

"Shall we begin?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we come to the end of Book 6. Tune in next time for Book 7: Umino Iruka and the Epilogue.
> 
> Hedwig and Crookshanks helping catch Pettigrew is partly inspired by a scene in "Souls Abound" by Robst.
> 
> It turned out that one of the toughest parts of writing this chapter was actually figuring out how to transition from Iruka's perspective on the immediate aftermath to the later, broader account of things.
> 
> Both Snape's and Remus's deaths occurred for similar reasons, from my perspective. Both men were, to a degree, passively suicidal. In Deathly Hallows, we see Remus eager to run off and die a heroic martyr instead of being with his wife and child, and we discover that Snape suffered from immense guilt and self-loathing. If anybody was going to die, it would be those two.


End file.
